


Old Friends

by Ariella1941



Series: Champion and Commander [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Language, Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:25:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4206156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariella1941/pseuds/Ariella1941
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric covers for more than just Hawke as he’s telling his lies. </p><p>An alternate universe story about Cullen's years in Kirkwall and his relationship with Miriam Hawke.</p><p>The story is written completely from his point of view, and there are a number of points where Cullen takes a larger part in plot points from Dragon Age 2, along with original material reflecting his personal experience in Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Start at the Beginning…

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age nor any of its associated characters, settings, or concepts. Dragon Age is the property of Bioware Studio and Electronics Arts.
> 
> Tags have been edited to reflect issues at the Gallows during Dragon Age 2, along with Cullen's personal history.
> 
> This is part one of Champion and Commander but ties in with the short story From Hell's Heart (which is a part of what happened at Kinloch Hold).

 9:41 Dragon              

 _Ah… artists are so misunderstood,_  Varric Tethras thought to himself as he sat in what was once Leandra Amell’s room. The Hawke estate was quiet for the moment; not that he expected any less. Cassandra Pentaghast didn’t strike him as the type who’d let so much as a whisper disturb her sense of order.

Varric looked around at the sputtering torches and the drifting dust motes that were his only company. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been talking; he’d stopped trying to keep measure when his throat went dry.  _I need to remember to complain to the Divine about the Seeker’s hospitality. A command performance and not even a glass of water afterward!_

The idea amused the dwarf, and it kept the niggling little fear that Seeker Pentaghast wouldn’t keep her word at bay. That she might resort to more “rigorous” interrogation sobered the dwarf. Varric had never thought that so many lives would hinge on his ability to spin a tale. He’d wanted the story told, but there were some things that needed to be kept; at any cost.

The door opened, allowing light to spill into the room. A tall human stood in the doorway, but his face was backlit so all Varric could see was his silhouette. Still, he was armed and wore heavy mail, so he was most likely one of the Seeker’s henchmen. “Time to go already? I haven’t even had time to pack.”

“Varric,” the man said stepping into the room. He pushed the door closed, allowing the dwarf to finally see his features.

“Oh. It’s you, Curly, I thought it was somebody important.”

“Very funny, dwarf,” Knight Commander Cullen replied as he eyed Varric. “Are you all right?”

“Wonderful. She threatened, I lied, she stabbed a book with a dagger.” Cullen gave him a strange look at that comment but Varric shook his head. “Long story, but the short version is, it was a barrel of laughs, and now the Seeker wants me to talk to the Divine.” His voice lost its flippant edge at the end. “I won’t give you up to  _her_  either.”

Cullen nodded, “I know you won’t, and I am sorry you’ve been put in such an... invidious position.”

“’Invidious position’? I like that. Come on, Curly, even if I wasn’t covering for you, I wouldn’t be giving the Seeker the correct time of day if I could manage it. Damn Chantry’s done enough.” He saw the young man wince. “Sorry, Cullen, that wasn’t a dig, honest.”

All the Templar could do was nod, the he sighed and leaned back against the door. “Seeker Pentaghast has offered me a position. She’s seeking to end the conflict, and she seems to believe I would be of benefit to her cause.”

“Cullen, stop dancing around and talk or Bianca is going to get testy.”

That comment brought a small smile to Cullen’s face, “Bianca isn’t even here.”

“She’s got a long memory and a short temper, trust me.”

 Cullen looked pensive. It was an expression he’d seen way too often on templar’s face in recent days. “Lady Cassandra wishes me to take command of this new organization’s military complement.”

Varric considered a glib response, but he reined himself in. Cullen was a friend, and glib was the last thing Kirkwall’s Knight Commander needed right now.

“You going to accept?”

“Yes. I… I just can’t stay here while she’s out there somewhere doing Maker knows what,” Cullen replied, his voice breaking. “I know why she wanted me to stay behind. I know she was trying to protect me…”

“Protect you  **and** Leandra, Cullen,” Varric countered, “if something happens to you now, Leandra is going to pay the price in the end.”

“And if I don’t do anything when I could? How could I look her in the eyes? How could I look Hawke in the eyes and say I stood by and did nothing.” Cullen began to play with the plain silver band on his left ring finger. “I can’t build a future for them by staying in Kirkwall. And this place… It holds too many memories.”

“Yeah, Curly. It does.”


	2. A Polite Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Knight Captain Cullen's off duty afternoon is interrupted by a pickpocket, Miriam Hawke comes to his rescue. And a conversation with Knight Commander Meredith leaves him wondering where he duty may truly lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off to AU land. Since this is an alternate universe, a number of conversations and events that played out in game will be different, but what we saw in Dragon Age 2, _is_ what Varric told Cassandra.
> 
> Sorry this took so long, but real life decided to drop rocks on my head. Hopefully, things will go faster now. 
> 
> This is also going to have a sequel/companion piece dealing with Hawke and Cullen's relationship in Dragon Age: Inquisition. I should have that posted soon as well. Enjoy.
> 
> Edit: I'm adding a year reference in each chapter, as I realized I can spread things out more than Bioware could.

9:31 Dragon

Cullen wandered through the Lowtown marketplace aimlessly, as he tried to collect his thoughts. The incident with Keran bothered him for more than just the obvious. Even with such a powerful Templar presence in Kirkwall, blood mages had managed to strike at the Order itself. Cullen shuddered to think of what would have happened without Mistress Hawke’s intervention.

Thoughts of Miriam Hawke made him twitch, as they had every day since he’d met the woman. For some reason their conversation about the treatment of mages bothered him. The words had lingered in the air long after she had left.

_Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me. They are weapons. They have the power to light a city on fire in a fit of pique!_

_And monarchs with armies at their beck and call? Or merchants who can dictate where the food shipments go? Or Grand Clerics who can agitate the people into a mob? It’s all power, Knight Captain. Mages are just a bit more spectacular about using it._

She was wrong, of course, all power wasn’t the same. Mages could be corrupted into demons all too easily.

 _Having trouble convincing yourself of that, Cullen?_  A small voice asked callously, and the voice was right. Miriam Hawke had forced him to consider the power of monarchs, merchants, clerics… and Knight Commanders.

That was the real rub. Hawke would have never become involved in the affair if not for rumors about Knight Commander Meredith. Rumors that were spreading among the populace of Kirkwall. Rumors whose tones spoke of fear and distrust. How could the Templars truly be the champions of the just if those who led the Order were feared so?

Being jostled brought Cullen back to himself. The young boy who bumped into him muttered an apology and moved on, just as the Templar realized he’d been robbed. Cullen turned in an attempt to catch the thief, but someone beat him to it.

 “Now be a good boy and give the nice man back his coin purse,” said the dark haired woman who was holding the urchin… by the ear, of all things. The boy pathetically held out the leather purse, which Cullen retrieved, and then awkwardly shot a pleading look back at the woman. She shook her head at the boy and said, “Now mind me, and don’t work the Lowtown market again… at least until your technique improves.” She let go of the child’s ear, and he scampered quickly into the crowd with a yelp.

Cullen tried not to glare at his ‘rescuer’. “You shouldn’t encourage such behavior, Mistress Hawke,” he said as repressively as he could. It was hard though, considering the wicked twinkle in her blue eyes and the slight smile on her lips.

 “And hello to you too, Knight Captain Cullen,” she drawled, still looking amused, though now obviously at his expense. She ran a hand through her short black hair and continued, “I’m surprised to find you here. I have trouble picturing you wandering Lowtown for thrills. Of course, Hightown’s amusements didn’t appeal to your tastes either, if I remember right.”

He flushed at the last, remembering his first encounter with Hawke far too well. “So where in Kirkwall do you picture me being, besides the Gallows?”

Miriam gently took his arm and guided him to out of the market’s traffic. “Honestly, I have trouble picturing you anywhere in Kirkwall. You don’t strike me as a city boy,” she said with another smile, which was much warmer this time.

 “Where are you taking me?” he asked as he realized he was being steered toward a specific destination.

 “I thought since you didn’t seem to have any place particular in mind while you were looking for thrills, you might have a drink with me.”

 “Did it ever occur to you to  _ask_  me?” Cullen inquired as he looked up ahead. The sign of the  _Hanged Man_  was unmistakable.

 “Why ask when a polite kidnapping will do?”

 “’Polite kidnapping’…? Do you always have a glib answer for everything?”

She laughed, “I only have a glib answer for most things. For those I don’t… well that’s what the daggers are for.”

Cullen decided it was just better to play along for now. The infuriating woman would have the last word no matter what he did, so silence seemed to be the better part of valor. Hawke ushered him through the tavern’s door, but he was surprised when she led him to the back of the  _Hanged Man_ ’s taproom. Entering a private suite Cullen looked about and saw one of Hawke’s companions, though he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember the dwarf’s name.

 “Varric!” Hawke said as she traded grips with her friend. “I’m sure you remember Knight Captain Cullen?”

 “Indeed I do, though I’m surprise to find him in your company, Hawke.”

 “I rescued him from a rather vicious pick pocket,” she replied as she winked at Cullen.

 “Oh, Maker’s breath! The boy couldn’t have been any more than ten.”

 “Ten years olds can be pretty vicious, Knight Captain,” Varric said, looking rather amused as Cullen flushed.

 _How did I get myself into this?_  He thought to himself.

 “Considering the situation, I thought it would be best to bring the valiant Knight Captain here, to keep him out of trouble.” Hawke settled down into one of the suite’s chairs and smiled at Cullen, who gave a resigned sigh and followed suit.

Varric settled into his own throne like chair with a smile. “Don’t take it personally, Ser Cullen, Hawke’s like this with everybody,” he said, then gestured to the serving woman who entered. “Ah, Norah, three of your best, on Hawke’s tab.”

The woman eyed them all for a moment, lingering on Cullen who flushed again, and said, “Of course, Master Tethras.”

“How am I supposed to save coin for this expedition if you keep putting things on my tab?” Hawke’s voice was plaintive, almost petulant, but Cullen looked at her with interest.

“Expedition?”

Varric nodded, “My brother Bartrand is financing an expedition to the Deep Roads, and Hawke here is looking to buy in.”

Cullen turned incredulous eyes on the woman. “Are you mad? To go  _searching_  for darkspawn?”

Hawke shrugged, “I’m not searching for darkspawn, Knight Captain. In fact, Varric tells me there’s a small window after a Blight were the Deep Roads are more or less clear.” The woman looked into Cullen’s eyes and seemed to considering her words carefully, “When we arrived from Ferelden, my mother thought things would be better. She’s from a noble family here in Kirkwall, but when we arrived, it seems her brother sold off her inheritance in order to pay his gambling debts,” Hawke sighed. “My brother, Carver, died on the way here, and then finding out her brother had sold everything took its toll. I  _need_  to get her out of Lowtown.” Norah returned with three tankards as Hawke murmured her thanks.

“Do you truly think you can earn enough on this trip to do so?” he asked, feeling stirrings of sympathy and surprise as Varric handed him a tankard.

 “Mother’s managed to retrieve Grandfather’s will, which leaves everything to her, so my uncle had no legal right to sell in the first place. But she’s going to need more than just a legal challenge to make it work, so that’s where this expedition comes in.”

Cullen was unsure of what to else to say but, “I wish you the best of luck, Mistress Hawke.”

She smiled at him, and for the first time Cullen noticed the depth in those blue eyes.  “Please, Knight Captain, it’s just Hawke.”

 “Then it is simply ‘Cullen’, Miss… I mean, Hawke.”

Hawke continued to smile and he felt somewhat warm. It was probably the fact the tavern was full to bursting.  Not wanting to search of a deeper rationale for his response, Cullen sat back and drank his ale while he listened to Hawke and Varric discuss possibilities for the upcoming expedition. Cullen suddenly realized it felt good to shed his duties for a while, and just be. Of course it wasn’t to last.

“Well,  _Ser_  Cullen, how good to see you. I’d heard you were at some Chantry in the ass end of Thedas.” Cullen turned toward the speaker and his eyes hardened.

“Anders. “Cullen said, raising his ale tankard in salute, voice a polite contrast to the mage’s viciousness. “And I thought you with the Grey Wardens, or did you run from them as well?”

 “Warden business is none of yours,” Anders replied coldly.

 “True,” Cullen said, studying the mage for a moment. “Thank you, Hawke, for the hospitality, but I should return to my duties.” He nodded to both Hawke and Varric while studiously ignoring Anders. Playing word games with the mage would just result in trouble. Better to simply report this, and deal with it officially.

Hawke stood, shooting Anders a warning glare before turning back to Cullen. “I’ll walk you to the docks, Cullen, just to prove I always intended to return you unharmed, of course,” she said, though Cullen noticed her eyes drifted to the mage once more. Anders nodded sullenly in response to the unvoiced request, but then as Hawke gestured for Cullen to proceed her, the Grey Warden spoke.

“Be careful, Hawke, the Knight Captain has already torn the heart out of one Amell. It won’t bother him to do it to another.”

Cullen froze for a moment, taking a deep breath to control his anger.

 “Maker watch over you, Anders,” he replied and strode out of the taproom.

“Cullen!” He heard Hawke behind him but kept going. He needed to get away from the tavern before he caused a major incident for the Order.

“Cullen… Please, wait!” She managed to match his stride. “Are you all right?”

He stopped and look at her, and saw honest concern in her eyes. “My apologies, Mistress Hawke.”

She took his arm once more and began navigating the streets back to the Docks. “You have nothing to apologize for. Anders is well… Anders.”

 “And worse than I remember.”

Hawke cocked her head to one side, “You know him.”

 “The mage with the most escape attempts on record at Kinloch Hold? It was hard  _not_ to know him considering the trouble he got up to.”

“Maker, I assume he was a… handful.”

 “Mistress Hawke, he swam across Lake Calenhad to escape once.”

Her eyes widened, “I’d accuse you of joking, but…”

 “It’s no joke, Serah Hawke.”

Hawke shook her head, “Lovely, nothing is ever simple is it?” She studied Cullen for a moment as they continued walking. “What did Anders mean?”

Cullen looked straight ahead, trying not to remember Solona Amell, but he failed. “Truth be told, I don’t know. There was a mage I knew… at Ferelden Circle Tower. Her family name was Amell, as for the rest…” He shrugged.

Hawke’s eyes widened in realization. “A mage named Amell, from Ferelden Circle. You  _know_ the Hero of Ferelden?”

“I  _knew_  her once.” Cullen’s voice went flat and his eyes were blazing with anger as he turned to look at her.

Hawke stopped, returning his stare with one of her own. “Well, that explains a bit.”

“What does that mean, pray tell?” He hissed, trying to control his anger.

 “My mother’s maiden name is Amell.”

This had to be a nightmare, or some terrible punishment of the Maker. He’d tried to escape that past, but it came back to haunt him even so.

Hawke looked at him, blue eyes sympathetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up the past.”

Cullen looked into those eyes and managed a smile, “It’s none of your doing, Hawke, I acted the boor. You owe me nothing.”

 “Still, I would like to make it up to you, if I can.” She told him with a smile as they continued to walk. “Maybe the next time you’re off duty, we can share another drink?”

 “Wouldn’t Anders object?”

 “As much as Anders would like to be more, we’re just friends.”

 “Oh,” Cullen looked straight ahead, trying to gather his thoughts, then finally asked, “why me?”

 “Because you look like you could use a friend yourself,” she said with a small smile.

Cullen found he liked that smile, maybe a bit too much. They walked for a time in companionable silence; until they reached the ferries back to the Gallows.

 “I think I’d like that, Hawke, I think I’d like that a great deal,” he said, “Maker go with you.”

 “Good day, Knight Captain,” she replied, trying to sound formal and stilted. The effect was ruined, however, by her impish smile.

Cullen kept the image of the smile in mind during the crossing back to the Circle.

* * *

Cullen left the refectory after evening meal and headed for the Knight Commander’s office. He wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, but after his run in with Anders, Cullen was convinced it was the right thing to do. The mage may just be in Kirkwall on Grey Warden business, but Anders had changed. Cullen knew Anders would never be a fan of the Order; in fact, the man had been rather animated in his descriptions of roasting Templars. But those outbursts were spawned by frustration and annoyance rather than any real threat. True viciousness had never been part of Anders character, until now it seemed.

Cullen arrived at the Knight Commander’s door just as he finished ordering his thoughts on the matter. A polite knock gained him entrance as Meredith Stannard studied him with cold eyes from behind her desk.

 “You had an eventful day, Knight Captain,” she said without ceremony. “The apostate you met with at _The Hanged Man_ , have you known him long?”

The question was polite, but he heard the razor edge beneath it.

 “Anders was part of the Circle of Magi at Kinloch Hold,” Cullen replied as he wondered who Meredith was having followed: Anders, Hawke, or himself. “He escaped just before the Fifth Blight and was conscripted into the Grey Wardens just afterward.”

Meredith narrowed her eyes at the mention of the Wardens. “There is no Warden outpost in Kirkwall,” she mused, “but that matters little. He’s made himself unassailable for the moment.”

 “Knight Commander?” Cullen watched the woman’s coldly calculating eyes. Something felt wrong about this whole business, and he wasn’t certain it was  _Anders_  who was the problem.

 “This apostate has set himself up as a healer in Darktown. A small clinic in a back alley, but the refugees and the rabble love him for it. Two of my agents were beaten for asking questions about him in Lowtown. Enough of them might actually be willing to oppose us if we were to move against him.” Meredith shook her head. “It wouldn’t be difficult to crush any who resisted, but the Order’s honor would be tarnished by such a thing.”

Cullen prayed he’d managed to control his expression at her pronouncement. That Meredith could speak so casually about killing innocent people was frightening. Of course, he doubted Meredith would see it that way. The Knight Commander would view anyone who raised a hand against the Order as an enemy to be destroyed. Cullen whole heartedly believed in the mission of the Templars, but he could also understand why the people who lived in Lowtown and Darktown would defend someone who helped when no one else would.

 _If we offered those in need assistance they would have no need to depend on an apostate,_  Cullen thought to himself,  _but I suppose that would sully the honor of the Order._

Out loud he said, “It seems we are stymied for the moment, and I doubt the Grey Wardens would tell us one way or another if he’d fled their ranks.”

“True,” Meredith replied in disgust. “This Anders has been seen in the company of one of the deshyrs of the Merchant’s Guild, and a young woman named Hawke who seems to be making a name for herself in Lowtown.”

 “Mistress Hawke assisted the Order several days ago when she discovered the blood mages who had kidnapped our recruits. She killed the cultists and saved one of the recruits, Keran, from being possessed.”

 “Yes, I remember that report now,” she looked down at the stack of papers laying before her as she drummed her fingers. “Keep an eye on this Hawke, Knight Captain. She may be useful in the future.” Meredith nodded, more to herself than to Cullen. “Dismissed.”

Cullen saluted and left the office, closing the door behind him, but the unease the conversation had awoken followed him back to his quarters. He’d realized not long after he arrived that Meredith might command the Gallows; she was no leader. The majority of the Knights stationed in Kirkwall feared her, and that was dangerous. Men who followed out of fear would follow their orders to the letter, and no more, thus stifling initiative that could give advantage.

 _I wanted to serve, not get caught up in a potential political struggle,_  he thought to himself. But there was nothing for it. He was a Templar and would follow his orders, yet in the back of his mind Hawke’s words echoed uncomfortably. It was something to think about, even though he did not want to.


	3. First Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen joins Hawke in investigating the disappearance of several women, including a Circle mage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went a little bit more "on screen" than I intended originally, but the whole plotline in Dragon Age 2 has such an impact on Hawke, and does touch the Templars, so it makes sense Cullen would get involved.
> 
> Easter Egg: Mikal is a reference to a character voiced by Greg Ellis in Knights of the Old Republic: Sith Lords.

9:31 Dragon

“Healer!” The shout echoed through the Gallows courtyard as Cullen ran toward the crowd of servants and recruits who had gathered at the gates. He’d recognized the voice immediately.

 “Stop gawking, get a healer, and let us pass or by the Maker I’ll…” Hawke growled as she and Guard Captain Aveline Vallen supported an older Templar Cullen recognized. The man looked severely beaten, a bloody makeshift bandage wrapped around his head.

 “Mistress Hawke, what’s going on?”

 “We found Ser Emeric being assailed by thugs in Darktown. We dealt with his attackers, but had no healer on hand.” Hawke looked right into Cullen’s eyes and he understood the unspoken message: Hawke didn’t trust Anders to treat a Templar. “We stabilized him with a healing draught, but he needs more attention than that.”

 “Agreed,” he replied and turned to several recruits, “Mikal, Ruvena, Hugh, take Ser Emeric to the infirmary now! I want a report as soon as he’s conscious.” The recruits saluted their Captain, then took the older man off to be healed.

Cullen turned to Hawke, eyes narrowed. “I appreciate the kindness, Serah Hawke, but I must wonder how you happened to come along at precisely the right time.”

Relieved of Emeric’s weight Hawke stretched, an effect that a small part of Cullen found fascinating. She then smiled at him, her usual humor returning. “Or the wrong time for the thugs, but I digress.” Her blue eyes darkened. “This isn’t something we should be discussing in public though, Knight Captain, so if you’ll indulge me?”

 “If you’ll follow me then?” Cullen he replied and led Hawke, Aveline and Varric to the small cell that served as his office.

On entry Varric looked around. “I never thought the Gallows could get, well, boring. I’m impressed.”

 “Very funny, Varric”, Cullen replied as he turned to lean against his desk. “All right, Hawke, we’re in private. Now what is this about?’

Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture of frustration Cullen had come to recognize over the past several weeks. “We were looking into the disappearance of Ghyslain de Carrac’s wife Ninette. She’s been missing for a month now, but while the guard sees it as purely a domestic matter, and while the husband’s no prize…”

“Hawke decided to stick her nose in anyway because she’s Hawke,” Varric finished for her.

 “And this led you to Emeric?” Cullen asked, somewhat incredulous.

Hawke sighed, “Not directly, no. Ghyslain said Ninette frequented the Blooming Rose. We spoke to a prostitute named Jethann. He thought Ninette had run away as well, but mentioned Ser Emeric asking questions. Jethann also told us that Emeric had mentioned going into Darktown to continue his investigation. We followed, and here we are.”

 “It seems the Order owes all three of you thanks,” Cullen said, “I just wish this hadn’t been necessary.”

 “You say that as if you’re unsurprised, Cullen,” Aveline said, eyes narrowed.

“Emeric was investigating a disappearance. A mage named Mharen went missing a few weeks ago. She was older, loyal to the Circle and never showed any inclination toward escape.” Cullen looked at Hawke. “I’d heard he’d begun to suspect that her disappearance may have been related to others in Kirkwall, but he never confided in me.”

There was a knock at the door, and as soon as Cullen gave permission to enter, Ruvena slipped inside. “Knight Captain? The healers say that Ser Emeric probably will be unconscious for some time yet, but he will recover.”

 “Thank Andraste for that at least. Thank you, Recruit, you’re dismissed.” The girl slipped back out of the office as he looked at his three guests. “I’d like to offer my aid in the matter, if you’ll allow it.”

 “Of course we’d be happy to allow it, Knight Captain.” Hawke kept to polite forms, but the amusement and pleasure in her voice was obvious. Cullen’s cheeks heated slightly for no reason he could discern.

“Uhm, good then,” he managed without stuttering too terribly, “As soon as I am able to question Ser Emeric, I’ll send a messenger.”

Cullen continued, "I’d offer the barracks but I have a feeling we may need more… specialized help. And I doubt he’d feel comfortable meeting here of all places.”   

“’Specialized help’, I like it, but will that help work with Curly here?” Varric replied with a slight smile.

Cullen blinked for a moment, unsure of what to say.

 “Forgive Varric, Cullen” Hawke cut in, “He has this affinity for nicknames.” She then turned the others, “Let me worry about that help.”

* * *

 “It’s not much, I’m afraid,” Cullen said later that evening. True to his word, he’d met up with Hawke, Varric, Aveline and a very surly looking Anders at the Hanged Man.

 “And following her phylactery yielded nothing?” the mage asked, despite his displeasure at working with a Templar.

 “Nothing. It led to a dead end in a foundry deep in Lowtown, then went out. But, according to Emeric’s notes,” Cullen held up a small stack of papers, “he thought there was something about the site that he may have missed.”

“Well, that simplifies things,” Hawke said with an unhappy quirk of her lips. They all knew what Cullen wasn’t saying: if the light in her phylactery went out, then Mharen was dead. She turned to Aveline and asked, “Do you want to bring the Guard in on this?”

“Honestly, Hawke, I’m not sure,” the Guard Captain replied. “Cullen, how powerful was Mharen?”

“She was no combat mage if that’s what you’re asking” he replied over Anders annoyed snort. “If she wasn’t involved in this, I’d think to bring your people immediately, Aveline. But she is, and something tells me there’s more at work here.”

“Sounds like we’re doing this the usual way, eh, Hawke?” Varric commented from his chair at the head of the table.

“It sounds like,” she replied, the looked at Cullen, “unless you could get Templar support.”

“Hawke, having  _one_  Templar is trouble enough,” Anders’ growled. “You want to bring a whole squadron down on us?”

Cullen ignored the dig. In fact, he ignored Anders in general. He had little interest in getting into verbal duels with the apostate. “Since Mharen is assumed dead, Meredith decided it would be a waste of resources to continue the hunt. She was rather… put out that Emeric continued the investigation.”

“So, the usual way then,” Hawke said, more to confirm for herself than anything else. “I don’t want to assume anything, Cullen, but are you willing to give us support?”

Cullen bristled for a moment at the implication he might not be willing to help. Yet as he looked at her, he saw something else: concern. Hawke didn’t want him to risk Meredith’s ire. That realization warmed him in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“If the individual who took Mharen is also the one involved in the disappearance of these other women, it’s my duty to do what I can.” He replied as he looked into her eyes. “and even it wasn’t, I don’t think I’d sleep easy if I just walked away.”

“Then welcome to the party, Knight Captain,” she told him with a smile. The expression faded after a moment. “I’ve actually come up with a  _plan_  this time too.”

Varric laughed, “Now there’s a first. Since it’s you, I figure it’s gotta be something insane.”

“I think I’m going to disappoint you, Varric, but…”

* * *

Despite Varric’s teasing, the plan was rather simple. Cullen was to back Hawke as she searched for traps. Aveline covered Anders should they need his magic, and Varric watched the doorway.

 “You were right, Hawke, I’m disappointed,” the dwarf muttered as he took up station near the exit.

Hawke smiled, but said nothing as she and Cullen moved deeper into the foundry. Her eyes scanned the ground as Cullen’s eyes swept the building in a threat search. The air felt oppressive here, and Cullen was more certain than ever than this was no ordinary kidnapping.

A rustle of cloth broke the tense silence as Cullen saw a man in mage robes step out of a room on the upper level. “There!” he cried out as he reached for his talents.

Before anyone could act, the mage was back through the door, and shades rose up to cover his escape. Cullen felt Hawke shift so they were back to back thus better able to defend one another.

“Can’t you ever take me anywhere where there are no demons, Knight Captain?” she joked as a shade bore in on her.

“Fight now, quip later,” he growled as he unleashed his talents against another demon coming in on his right.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cullen could see the bright flashes of Anders’ magic and heard the chiming of shade claws on Aveline’s shield. The battle noise was punctuated by twanging sounds as Varric loosed volley after volley from Bianca. The tide turned quickly in favor of Cullen and his allies.

“Hawke! Aveline’s been injured,” Anders yelled as Hawke took to the stair, Cullen at her back.

“Do what you can for her, but we can’t let this bastard get away!”

Cullen and Hawke skidded to a stop in front of the door the mage retreated through. Hawke dropped to one knee and tried to pick the lock. “No good, the damn thing is far more complicated than anything I’ve had to deal with.”

A small voice in the back of Cullen’s mind wondered why Hawke would have such a skill in the first place, but filed that away as he tried bashing at the door. After several tries, he’d barely scratched the wood. The others joined them as he made one last attempt without success. He turned and saw Aveline looked a little worse for wear as she leaned slightly on Anders, but besides that everyone came through in one piece.  _Something to be grateful for, I suppose._

“Take a look at this,” Hawke said in a sickened voice as she knelt to study something, “I think the mage dropped it before he ran.”

Swathed in sackcloth, Cullen saw what looked like finger bones, and he noticed a glint of red stained gold among them. “Maker’s breath, what is going on here?”

“I have no idea,” Anders said as Hawke gingerly lifted the sackcloth and its contents from the ground. “Blood magic, though that is rather obvious from the welcome he had prepared.”

Aveline straightened, testing her balance for a moment, and then reached in to retrieve a ring from the bone pile. “Ninette’s ring, I suppose. Flames.” The Guard Captain’s voice was a bared sword blade, echoing Cullen’s own emotions.

“Aveline, with your permission I’d like to take the bones back to the Gallows. Perhaps we can find something to help us track this monster down.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, “I agree, on the condition that you keep me informed. Protecting the mages of the Circle is part of your purview. But the others he took are part of mine.”

Cullen nodded. “We should make one more sweep, though I doubt he left anything else behind.”

“Except maybe more demons,” Varric muttered as they moved toward the other rooms on this level.

“Let’s hope not,” Hawke replied, sounding exhausted and still a bit sick from what she found. “I believe I’m all demoned out for the moment.”

* * *

 The next evening Cullen knocked on Ser Emeric’s door. “May we come in?” he asked, “You have a visitor.”

After hearing the older man’s quiet affirmation, Cullen and Hawke entered Emeric’s room. The man lay propped up in his bed, wearing a linen nightshirt. He was still pale and his eyes were sunken, but the old man smiled slightly as he saw the pair.

“Knight Captain? What do I own the pleasure?” he asked as he looked at Hawke.

“Ser Emeric, this is Miriam Hawke, she came to your aid in Darktown yesterday,” Cullen said.

Emeric nodded, “My apologies, Mistress Hawke, for not realizing who you were, and not greeting you properly.”

“Please, don’t apologize, Ser. I’m simply glad that you’re doing better.”

“No, Serah Hawke, you saved my life, and continued the investigation in my stead. I keep forgetting that I’m old and not the swordsman I once was.” Emeric looked regretful then said, “If there is anything I may do for you, Mistress Hawke, you have but to ask.”

To Cullen’s amazement, the usually brash woman colored slightly. “Thank you, Ser. We’ll leave you to your rest.” Bowing her head in respect, Hawke slipped out the door and Cullen followed after a moment.

“What will happen to him now?” Hawke asked quietly as they moved back through the Gallows halls toward the main gate.

“Supervising the new recruits, light guard duty most likely. Why?”

“He just looked so… resigned, as if he was simply expecting to endure old age,” she replied, a distant look in her eyes. “We’ll solve this for him, as much as for those women, Cullen. We need to.”

The depth of compassion surprised Cullen, even though he knew it shouldn’t. Miriam Hawke was becoming an ever more complicated puzzle. One he simply needed to solve. He said none of this, however, just simply:

“We will.”


	4. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uncomfortable conversation with Meredith. A night out with friends. And Cullen takes another small step in his friendship with Hawke as she prepares to leave for the Deep Roads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, one more chapter and we'll see the end of 9:31 Dragon. This fic will span from 9:31-937, but events that may have all taken place in 9:34 (the year of the Qunari assault) are going to end up being spread out. How much, I don't know yet, but be prepared. Still a long ride ahead.

9:31 Dragon

Cullen waited until Ser Karras finished his report to the Knight Commander, and he wasn’t sure which bothered him more, Hawke’s interference in Templar matters or Karras’ ugly distain of his charges. He spoke as if the runaway Starkhaven mages were animals to be herded up or (preferably for Ser Karras) put down.

_Sounds familiar, hmm? Can’t treat them like people, can you?_

That small voice had been whispering to him for a while now, and it had begun to sound like Miriam Hawke, much to his discomfort.

Karras saluted Meredith as he was dismissed, then gave Cullen a perfunctory nod. He’d become used to it. At twenty, Cullen was probably the youngest Knight Captain in the Order, and there were a number of salacious rumors as to how he’d earned the position. Cullen never understood Meredith’s motivations though she acted like a distant mentor, preparing him for the duties that came with rank.

“What do you think, Knight Captain?” Meredith asked in a calm voice.

“Ma’am?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Cullen. This Miriam Hawke impersonated a Templar and aided mages in escape.”

“Ser Thrask was able to retrieve the Starkhaven mages without incident afterward, Knight Commander.”

“And this excuses her somehow?”

 “No, but from what the boy, Alain, said, there were blood mages among them, and exploration of the caverns in the aftermath found signs of a battle. Mistress Hawke was able to go in, remove the maleficarum…”

“And allowed the others to go free.”

“Yes, Knight Commander, but we were able to recover them with no loss of life.,” he pointed out. He couldn’t push much further out onto this limb, so Cullen knew he had to find another limb. “As you pointed out, Ma’am, Mistress Hawke had the ear of the Guard Captain, and a deshyr of the Merchant’s Guild. The Viscount thinks highly of her after she rescued his son, and she has been in contact with Sebastian Vael. Rumor has it she aided him in the matter of his family’s murder.”

“This Miriam Hawke is becoming something of a fulcrum, is she not? I’ve heard she even challenged a dragon and won,” Meredith said in disgust.        

“Yes, Knight Commander, it’s has been confirmed by several miners at the Bone Pit. Fortunately, while female, it was not a high dragon.”

“As if that matters now that dragons have returned.” Meredith tapped her fingers on her desk, a gesture Cullen privately realized was a nervous one, but would never admit aloud. “Arresting her becomes more and more difficult by the day.”

“Arresting her will only give her more status with those who hate us,” Cullen pointed out.

Meredith’s blue eyes narrowed and she asked, “are your feelings clear in this matter, Knight Captain?”

“Of course, Knight Commander, and consider the current situation she brought to the Order with this former slave… That you are willing to aid a friend of hers will go far.”

The tattoo of her fingers on the desktop became louder for a moment, then stopped all together.

 “Very well, Knight Captain, but remind her my sufferance has limits, and try to steer her onto a better course.”

“Yes, Knight Commander,” Cullen replied as he saluted. Closing the office door behind him; he headed for his quarters feeling as if he'd been pulled in too many different directions.

* * *

“Ser Hawke of Ferelden Circle?”

“I’ll admit I wasn’t at my best, Curly,” Varric told Cullen several hours later. The Knight Captain had joined Hawke and several of her friends at _The Hanged Man_. It was becoming a habit by now, and Cullen felt uncomfortable with the fact he was so comfortable with these people. More comfortable than he was with any of his fellows in the Circle.

“I believe that is an understatement, Varric.”

The dwarf shrugged and took a sip of ale. “Thrask had already called Hawke by name just before that asshole Karras arrived, so I had to improvise.”

“It would have been a bloodbath, Cullen,” Hawke told him from her place at the foot of the table. “The blood mages among them were summoning the dead, and the cavern they’d hold up… there was barely room for us.” She gestured to Varric and Fenris who was sitting to her left. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if you’d sent an entire squad down there.”

“I managed to convince Meredith of that based on Ser Thrask’s report, Hawke, but her patience is wearing thin,” Cullen replied, not bothering to hide his concern.

“Well, Bartrand’s made the last arrangements, so we should be heading for the Deep Roads in a few days,” Varric said, looking less than overjoyed. Privately Cullen agreed with the dwarf’s sentiment. While it would be ideal for Hawke to get out of Kirkwall for a time, the whole notion of this expedition made him uncomfortable.

 _Of course you wouldn’t be worried about Hawke’s safety, would you?_  That same small voice that had been plaguing him for the past several weeks observed.

Cullen settled down next to Varric and gestured for Norah to bring him an ale. The barmaid gave him a sweet smile then left. “On a happier note, Meredith has decided it would be for the best to not attempt to put you in protective custody, Fenris.”

“For that, I am grateful, as I would rather not find myself facing a squadron of knights,” Fenris said quietly, “I would rather avoid a conflict with the Templars at all if possible.”

 “How’d you convince her, Curly?” Varric asked. “I’d think having a guy who can rip your heart out without breaking skin would be right up her alley.”

 “True, but the thought of having the hearts ripped from Templars cooled her curiosity,” Cullen replied with a sigh, as Norah set his ale in front of him. She gave him another flirty smile and left. “I also convinced her that if we were to keep you in proximity to the mages, someone might be able to observe enough to replicate the experiment.” He finished, nodding to the elf.

 “Wise of her,” Fenris said quietly, and Cullen wished he could do more. He’d willingly accepted lyrium as the price of his calling, but to have it embedded into your very skin, to lose every memory. Cullen would not wish that on anyone. He reached for his ale and took a long pull as Fenris eyed him. “And Danarius?”

“The Knight Commander’s orders are to treat Magister Danarius and his agents as maleficarum, and act accordingly.” Cullen watched as some of the tightness eased around Fenris’ eyes. It was a small thing, barely noticeable, but there, and Cullen was glad to see it.

“Thank you,” the elf said, his voice controlled as always, but as with the eyes there was a very slight gentling of his tone. “I owe you much it seems.”

Cullen shook his head. “No, you owe me nothing. This is what the Order is supposed to do.”

“Now we’ve got that taken care of, can we ease up on the grim?” Varric asked. “I do this kind of thing to relax.”

It was that moment that Isabela sidled over. “Varric! You were having a party and didn’t tell me. I’m hurt.” She turned to eye Cullen in appreciation “And such lovely guests too.”

“Isabela, leave Cullen alone…please,” Hawke said as Cullen felt the flush creep up his neck. He got on well with Varric, Fenris, and Aveline. Hawke’s sister and the young Dalish woman who had recently joined Hawke’s circle avoided him, and he asked no questions of them in turn. Anders was the only mage of Hawke’s acquaintance he had regular dealings with, shielded by his questionable membership in the Wardens. Isabela, however, was a different story.

Most nights Cullen found Isabela annoying. Tonight however; the way she looked at him with a certain predatory covetousness, and the purring tease of her flirtations reminded him far too strongly of the demons of Kinloch Hold. The pirate was still teasing, still flirting, but he couldn’t hear her over the pounding of his heart. He reached for his ale, fighting to keep his hand steady. Before he could bring the tankard to his lips, his eyes met Hawke’s. Blue eyes widened with concern, then narrowed as she spoke:

“Isabela, enough.”                                 

The Rivaini woman blinked at Hawke’s tone, as did Cullen. Hawke’s voice had held command, and something Cullen didn’t completely recognize. Protectiveness, maybe? Or possessiveness? Whatever it was stopped Isabela cold.

“Fine,” she muttered dropping into a seat, “but Hawke, you take all the fun out of life.”

“I doubt that, Isabela, but I do try,” Hawke replied dryly, then looked at Varric, “So how insane is Bartrand at the moment? He must be going out of his mind with the last details of the expedition.”

Varric laughed and launched into a monologue detailing his brother’s desperate attempts to deal with the minutiae that was plaguing his insane venture into the Deep Roads.  It was enough time for Cullen to recover himself and relax once more. He caught Hawke looking at him and raised his tankard in salute. She mirrored him and gave an answering smile. 

* * *

It was another hour before the gathering began to break up. Hawke, surprisingly, was the first to rise.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think I’m done in for the night. Till tomorrow, everyone,” she said with a smile, but then she looked at Cullen. “Do you think I can trouble you to walk me home, Cullen?”

He stood quickly, surprised by the request. “It's no trouble, Hawke.” He gestured for her to proceed him. “Please.”

The walk from _The Hanged Man_ was quick, and surprisingly quiet. Cullen watched Hawke out of the corner of his eye, and noticed she seemed to be… pensive perhaps? It wasn’t until they reached the door of Hawke’s uncle’s home that she spoke.   

“Are you all right, Cullen?” she asked bluntly, concern evident in her blue eyes.

“Of course, Hawke, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, sparring for time. He should have known this was coming. The woman had the curiosity of a cat, which explained her penchant for trouble.

She tilted her head to one side, studying him. “When Isabela… She’s almost intolerable when she gets like that, but you didn’t look annoyed.”

He had hoped Hawke had interpreted his distress as acute embarrassment, but the woman was as perceptive as usual. Dammit all.

“I… she… It just reminded me of something that happened to me long ago,” he said carefully, “On a particularly bad day.”

Hawke continued her study for a moment longer then nodded. “All right, and I’ll do what I can to keep Isabela from… well, being too Isabela.” They smiled at each other at the thought of trying to reign in the irrepressible Captain Isabela on a regular basis.

“I do appreciate that, Hawke, but I think it just caught me off guard today,” he told her, still smiling. “You might hurt yourself trying to restrain her further.”

 “You realize, I just had to stop myself from making a pithy comment about how Isabela might take restraint,” she replied, her smile becoming an urchin’s grin.

Cullen felt his cheeks heat, and cleared his throat. “I’m unsure that I want to know,” he noted the darkened sky and said, “It is getting late, and I should return to the Gallows, but I have a favor to ask.”

Hawke blinked and the grin smoothed into more serious lines. “Of course, Cullen, all you need to is ask.”

His flush darkened as he fumbled for the right words and finally said in a rush, “Come back safe, Miriam.”

Hawke blinked, and then smiled. It wasn’t her usual smile, filed with impishness and irrepressible charm. It was smaller, almost shy, and full of genuine warmth.

“I will,” she said.

That smile made everything he’d dealt with today worthwhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Cullen meets Leandra Amell among other things.


	5. These Amell Women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Hawke and Bethany gone on the Tethras expedition, Cullen goes to introduce himself to Leandra Amell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd originally intended this to extend to Hawke's return from the Deep Roads, but it just didn't fit right. So that will be next chapter. While this chapter is safe for work. It _might_ not be a good idea to read while drinking, as Cullen is at his awkward best.

9:31 Dragon

 _This isn’t a good idea. Why did I think this was a good idea?_ Cullen asked himself as he walked through Lowtown. It was one thing to spend time with Hawke, something Meredith had ordered him to do anyway. But to visit with Hawke’s mother? To ensure Leandra Amell was well and safe while her daughters were away. It was tantamount to acknowledging Bethany’s existence. An existence that should have sent her to the Gallows that day on Sundermount.

But he hadn’t, and that unnerved Cullen. He’d only met Hawke, and still he shirked his duty, leaving Bethany free. It worried him, and it didn’t make sense. After Ferelden any naïveté about the dangers of magic had been torn away. He had come away from that horror with the conviction that mages truly could not be treated as other men and women. There was too much blood, too many horrors for him to believe otherwise.

_And monarchs with armies at their beck and call? Or merchants who can dictate where the food shipments go? Or Grand Clerics who can agitate the people into a mob? It’s all power, Knight Captain. Mages are just a bit more spectacular about using it._

Hawke’s words echoed in his head once again, as they had every time these thoughts came to him now. Power was what it always came down to, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore that fact. Not just in the Circle, but he began to see it in so many places in Kirkwall. Places where those in power could help, but did nothing.

Cullen tried to turn his thoughts away from such an uncomfortable subject, only to find himself running headlong into another. He was going to visit Leandra Amell. He was going to visit Hawke’s mother, not out of any duty, but because she _was_ Hawke’s mother.

After Ferelden Circle, Cullen had eschewed emotional attachments. He had yet to write his family to inform them of his transfer to Kirkwall. And yet, for all his resistance to such things, all his carefully constructed defenses, Miriam Hawke had waltzed right through as if they were nothing. And she’d brought along a motley assortment of friends right behind her.

 _I have_ friends, he thought to himself. And there was more than a bit of wonder in the thought. Varric, Fenris, Aveline had all somehow become people he liked and admired. And Hawke was just, well, Hawke. There was no way to describe her except maybe as a force of nature. No, that was the perfect way to describe her.

 _And now I find myself going to visit her_ mother _of all things._

Cullen shook his head as he climbed up the small flight of steps leading to Gamlen Amell’s home. Knocking on the door, he waited politely, all the while wondering, again, if this was a good idea. His nerve began to fail as the door opened. An older woman looked up at him with a curious gaze, and Cullen swallowed.

While Leandra Amell’s face was careworn, it was easy to see Miriam in those features. But he also saw hints of someone he has not expected. And it was the resemblance to Solona Amell that caught him off guard.

“Can I help you, Serah?” Mistress Amell asked with polite wariness.

“Ah, umm, yes, actually. I’m a friend of Hawke’s… I mean, Miriam’s,” Cullen managed. _It must be something about Amell women,_ he told himself, _that turns me into a stuttering idiot!_

“Miriam’s left for a time, Serah...?”

“Oh, it’s Cullen, Mistress Amell, Cullen Rutherford,” he managed this time, without sounding like an utter fool. “Actually, umm, I came to speak to you, Mistress.”

“Me, Ser Cullen?” She said sounding worried, and Cullen suppressed the urge to hit himself in the forehead. Of course if Hawke had mentioned him to her mother, she would have told Leandra he was a Templar. Suddenly grateful he was in the leathers he’d taken to wearing when he was off duty, Cullen tried again.

“I’m not here on any official business of the Order, Mistress Amell, but ah, I though with Miriam being, well, since she’s not here, and she’s mentioned her uncle…” At this point, Cullen felt entirely pathetic, but the woman standing in the doorway smiled.

“Would you like to come in, Ser Cullen? It’s probably a _bit_ more comfortable.”

Leandra’s smile contained none of the impishness of Hawke’s but it reminded him slightly of the one Miriam gave him just before she left. A smile filled with gentle warmth that made him feel more at ease.

“Thank you, Mistress, I’d be happy to.”

She opened the door wider so he might enter, and ushered him to a chair near a small table. The place was barely large enough for one person. Four people were sharing this space? It gave Cullen a better understanding as to what had driven Hawke to buy into the Tethras expedition.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, “I don’t have any cream, it’s hard to come by in Lowtown, but I have managed to get some honey.”

He nodded again, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. He’d just come to say hello and offer assistance while Hawke was away. Yet now he was taking tea with her mother. _Amell women. Maker help me. That’s my weakness. Amell women._

Thankfully Leandra had no ability to read minds, and once she finished setting the tea pot to boil on the hearth, she sat down across from him. “Now, you were saying?”

Cullen cleared his throat, and tried to consider his words with care. “Miriam has mentioned to me that your brother is…” He shrugged looking somewhat helpless, “That you are not on the best of terms at the moment.”

“I doubt my daughter was that polite. She does tend to paint my brother in darker hues than necessary,” she said sadly, “though only slightly in this case. It’s unfortunate, Gamlen and I were close once.”

“Well, ah, she spoken to me about your estrangement, and since I know that Miriam,” he took a breath, “and Bethany are gone, I thought I could be of some assistance… should you require it, of course.”

The teapot began to whistle, and Leandra went to pour two cups. She returned setting the cups down, and then retrieved the little pot of honey. Cullen sat, allowing the tea to steep, and trying to pretend he was a calm, collected adult, and not some adolescent who’d been caught in some mischief.

Leandra settled back down in her chair and smiled at him again, and Cullen found he couldn’t help be smile back. “I can see why she likes you,” Hawke’s mother told him.

“Hmm, she, uh, she said that?” he asked, his voice cracking a little.

“She did,” Leandra affirmed, “She also told me the she thought you a very good man.”

Cullen desperately tried to find something to say, rubbing the back of his neck. What _could_ he say in response to that. _Hawke thinks I’m a good man._ Suddenly he felt a foolish grin cross his face, and Leandra smiled at him. “I think I would appreciate the company while my daughters are away.”

He nodded, “It would be my pleasure, Mistress Amell.”

_It had to be Amell women._


	6. The Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen begins to worry as Hawke is overdue and he's haunted by a disturbing new dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potentially very minor NSFW at the very beginning.

9:31 Dragon

The world shattered as Cullen bit down on a cry. Ecstasy ran through him like a sword blade as his heart raced and his breathing stuttered.  When he finally came back to the world, he tried to comprehend what had happened. It didn’t take long to realize at least part of it.

Disgusted with himself, Cullen got up and went to the wash basin. Pouring fresh water from the pitcher, he cleaned himself up as best he could. He then tossed his smallclothes and the breeches he’d been sleeping in into the laundry bin. Dressed in fresh clothing, Cullen returned to bed, as disgust was replaced by fear.

This hadn’t been a nightmare. It didn’t  _feel_  like a nightmare. Whatever emotions the demons at Ferelden Circle had tried to invoke, whatever seductions they’d tried to employ, Cullen had not given in, even though there were moments when he’d wanted to. He shivered at the memories at what had been done, how the demons had clouded his mind until he could not tell pain from pleasure. And how when they’d taken it all away, he’d felt bereft and empty.

He’d been on the verge when Solona Amell had arrived, killing Uldred and freeing him. But scars remained, and those scars were another reason he’d avoided emotional entanglement. If he was damaged after all, if he still wanted that knife edge of pain along with pleasure…

 _Maybe I_  am _broken,_  he thought to himself, feeling ashamed, for he remembered nails raking hard up his inner thigh. Stinging pinprick nips trailed down his neck, even as he felt soft lips on his, and a sweet warmth surrounding him.

There had been laughter as well, but not malicious, not tainted. No, the laughter had been warm, clean, and joyous. That voice had been unsullied by a demon’s touch, and while it whispered things he couldn’t remember, the sweetness in it made him feel  _alive_  again.

All these things were fragments, pieces his waking mind couldn’t comprehend. His nightmares had been slightly less of late. He would wake feeling drained, with only the vaguest memories. This was new, and frightening. That his mind had conjured up this…fantasy when it was impossible frightened him even more.

Cullen glanced out the window. Seeing it was still dark, he lay back down on his bed and began to run through meditation exercises. But it was still long while before he fell back to sleep.

* * *

“I appreciate that you’re doing this, Cullen,” Guard Captain Aveline Vallen told him as she leaned back against her desk. “I’m not sure how much it’ll truly help. That’s in the hands of the Knight Commander.”

Cullen nodded, “True. I think I’ve managed to convince her that information sharing would keep us from wasting resources.”

“We do what we can with what we have,” Aveline sighed. She looked pensive for a moment then spoke again. “This liaison position isn’t the only reason why I asked you here.”  

Cullen cocked an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “What else can I do for you, Guard Captain?”

Aveline shook her head, “This isn’t the Guard Captain talking to a Templar Knight Captain. It’s Aveline talking to Cullen.”

It wasn’t like Aveline to talk around a subject like this, and he could see the uneasiness in her eyes. “This is about Hawke? You have news?” he asked, trying to stay calm. Hawke was overdue by a month, and while Cullen had been doing his best to distract Leandra from the fact, he was beginning to worry.

“Maybe,” she said, “Someone’s started moving a number of assets belonging to Bartrand Tethras, such as the family home.”

“You’ve been keeping an eye on this?”

Aveline nodded, “I told Hawke Bartrand was a son of a bitch, so when they left I decided to keep a quiet eye on his holdings.”

“From what Varric has said of his brother,” Cullen replied slowly, “Bartrand wouldn’t give anyone that kind of authority.”

“Exactly. I haven’t found any indication he’s still in Kirkwall, but if we’re right that Bartrand is that tightfisted, then he  _was_  in town about two weeks ago. And before you ask, I only received this information yesterday evening.”

Cullen began to curse under his breath. “If anything has happened to her…I mean them, even the Maker won’t be able to help that bastard.”

“You’ll have to beat me to it, Cullen, but I agree with the sentiment,” Aveline replied, her voice pure ice. Then she sighed. “But let’s not give up on the others yet. Maybe there’s a legitimate reason they’re delayed.”

“Do you really think that?” Cullen asked flatly.

“No, I really don’t.”

* * *

Cullen had just finished working with the trainees for the day. He was looking forward to a hot meal, and a bath. These new dreams had continued to haunt his sleep since they’d started a week before, and the growing anxiety over Hawke was doing little for his temperament. But at least being alone was some solace. Being able to remove the pleasantly calm façade made it somewhat easier to bear.

“Knight Captain!” called an unfamiliar voice.

He turned around and fought not to snap, “What?”

A boy of maybe twelve or thirteen skidded to a stop in front of him. “Are you Knight Captain Cullen?”

“Yes,” he glared at the boy, wondering what all this was about.

“Message for you, Ser! Master Tethras needs to see you at _The Hanged Man_ as soon as possible.”

The boy’s words hit Cullen like a thunder clap. Varric was back, which meant… “Tell Master Tethras I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he said as he managed to fish out a silver for the messenger.

“Yes Ser!” the boy took off at a run, heading back down to the Gallows’ dock. Cullen strode in the opposite direction in order to change and make arrangements. A strange kind of excitement, mixed with dread, flowed in his veins.

 Cullen entered _The Hanged Man_ , and quickly spotted Varric. He was leaning on the wall by the entrance to his suite, but the door was closed. The dwarf himself looked exhausted and beat down, then Cullen got a good look at his eyes. Pain, sadness, and too many other emotions for Cullen to sort out at the moment.

He approached cautiously, “Welcome back, Varric. You look…”

“Like shit. Yah, lot of that going around, but damn I’m glad you’re here, Cullen.”

The dwarf’s use of his given name rather than that asinine nickname triggered warning bells. “How can I be of service, Varric? The messenger implied it was urgent.”

Varric nodded, and gestured to the door. “Hawke’s inside, waiting for a room to be cleaned up for her here.”

“Why here?” Those warning bells grew louder.

Varric gestured at a table and as they sat down Norah brought drinks. The dwarf murmured thanks then took a long pull. “I’m really not drunk enough to tell this one, Cullen, but I’m not going to make  _her_ tell it. Not in the shape she’s in.” Fury gleamed in his eyes for a moment, then he took a breath. “Bartrand screwed us. We found this idol, pure lyrium. It’d be worth a fortune on the black market. The son of a… well, he took it and locked us in the vault where we’d found it.”

Cullen bit down on a growl, and the urge to find the bastard and kill him. Slowly. Varric nodded as he saw Cullen’s expression. “Yeah, take that, multiply it several times, and you’ve got what I’m going to do to Bartrand when I find him. Anyway, there was another exit and we ended up going the long way around.”

“I can understand that, but why would Hawke need to stay here? It doesn’t make… Something happened to Bethany, didn’t it?” He shook his head. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Bethany caught the Blight, Cullen,” Varric’s voice was devoid of any expression. “Fortunately, I guess, we were near a Warden outpost or something Anders knew about. He convinced their senior officer to take Bethany into the Order. She’ll be safe from the Blight, if she survives whatever this initiation rite of theirs is, but Leandra’s not taking it well. So Hawke’s going to stay here for a bit. We did manage to bring out a nice haul, so I’ll be working some contacts to sell this shit, get Hawke’s family home back, and find my dear brother.”

“I’d like to be there for that reunion, Varric.”

“You and a lot of people, but he’s my brother. I get to kill him first.” Varric managed a snort, “Go see her. She’s the one who asked for you.”

* * *

 It was strange to enter Varric’s rooms and not find a mob of people within. Cullen found it somewhat unnerving, but filed his discomfort in a deep dark place as he saw Miriam. She looked up, her blue eyes dull and red rimmed. Dried tear tracks marred her pale skin, and she shoulders were slumped as she sat on the edge of Varric’s bed. Somehow, even with the sorrow he could  _feel_  pressing upon her; Miriam Hawke stayed upright.

“Cullen?” her voice was rusty from tears and it was heartbreaking to watch her try to summon a ghost of her usual smile. The façade broke as he sat down beside her, and tears began to fall once more, and Hawke buried her face in the curve of his neck.

“Shhhh. I’m here,” he told her as he wrapped an arm about her. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

“First Carver, now Bethany,” she whispered. “Mother blames me, and she’s right.”

Cullen tipped her chin up so he was looking in her eyes. “No, she’s not. She’s angry and hurting, but she’s _not_ right. And she’ll realize that in time, Miriam, because she loves you.”

Cullen watched a shadow of curiosity pass through her eyes, and gave her a small wry smile. “I thought maybe that someone should keep an eye on her while you were gone. We talked a great deal, so I  _know_  how much she loves you.”

Miriam rested her head on his shoulder once more, and if the tears still came, the wracking sobs had calmed. Taking this as a good sign, Cullen just held her tighter, murmuring soothing noises, and simply focused on being present.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but her breathing became regular and the tension in her muscles had fled. Cullen laid her down on Varric’s bed, checking to make sure she was truly asleep then peeked out into the taproom.

Varric noticed him immediately, and said, “she alright?”

“Asleep. You said something about a room?”

The dwarf nodded, and opened the side door of his suite, which led into a hallway. Cullen gently lifted Hawke from the bed, and followed Varric to a doorway just down from his own. Varric opened the door, allowing Cullen to carry her inside. The room was surprising clean and well-tended for _The Hanged Man_ , but Varric took care of his friends. And Cullen was glad to see it.

He laid Hawke down on the bed, removing her boots, then tucked her in. She rolled on her side, snuggling into the mattress with a whimper. 

“I’ve got this, Curly. You should head back to the Gallows,” Varric said, the gratitude palpable in his voice.

“I’ve made arrangements, so I needn’t report until tomorrow afternoon,” Cullen replied.

“How did you…? Wait, I don’t want to know, but okay. I’ll take the afternoon shift, and we’ll see what happens. I’ll keep you posted.” Cullen felt the weight of Varric’s stare, and whatever he saw was enough, it seemed. “And Cullen?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

Cullen nodded as the dwarf quietly left the room. Then he settled down on the floor next to the bed. Leaning his back against the wall, Cullen took Miriam’s hand, and waited for dawn to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends 9:31 Dragon. 9:32 looks to have at least two pieces, one of which will be called _Alain_ after the young mage from Starkhaven. This is where those warnings will be coming in.


	7. Alain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is forced to confront ugly truths about the Gallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: referenced rape and abuse. This is a really dark chapter.

9:32 Dragon

“Well, if it isn’t the Knight Captain. Did the Order finally cast you down into the abyss with us sinners and apostates? Or are you just slumming it again?” Anders asked as he dropped down into the seat across from Cullen. The mage’s tone, while sarcastic as ever lacked the bitter tinge Cullen had become accustom too in the last year or so. If anything Anders sounded much as he did before the Fifth Blight.

_Lucky bastard_ , Cullen thought to himself, as he said aloud, “Should I take roll when I return to the Gallows, Anders? Or maybe just ask you where the bodies are so they can have a proper pyre.”

That salvo, amazingly enough, made Anders laugh. “Why Ser Cullen, you have a sense of humor after all. I thought they’d have bred it out of you by now. But if you must know, today is my day of jubilee.”

Cullen was about to comment when Corff brought Anders a tankard. The bartender nodded to him, then set the ale in front of the mage. “This and as many as you please, Serah, on the house,” he said and withdrew.

Anders picked up the drink, took a long pull and let out a contented sigh. “As I said, my  _well-earned_  day of jubilee.”

Varric sauntered over to the pair of them and smiled. “From the look on your face, I’m gonna guess that Jeanne finally delivered.”

“Thank the Maker, yes,” Anders replied fervently. “Two bloody long days of labor, though I shouldn’t complain, since she was doing most of the work!” His voice took on a slightly more serious tone. “Mother and twins made it through, though the babies are smaller than I’m comfortable with. It’s something that needs watching. But for the moment I’m happy to take advantage of Corff’s misguided thanks for his niece’s safe delivery and indulge.”

Cullen tried to stop himself from staring dumbfounded at Anders. He couldn’t be hearing this right. The man always struck Cullen as a selfish hedonist, someone who thought the world only existed to provide pleasures. But here was Anders, reveling in an act of  _compassion_.

“This is about babies?” The words fell out before Cullen could retrieve them, and both mage and dwarf looked at him with amusement.

“Yes, this is about babies,” Anders answered as he eyed Cullen, “It’s actually a bit of work bringing them into the world. Well, the birthing them. Conceiving them is easy, and fun if you do it right.” The mage continued as Cullen felt his cheeks heat. “You do  _know_  where they come from, right? Or do I need to explain that when a mother and father love each other  _very much_ …”

“ _Maker’s Breath_! Yes, I know where they come from. I grew up on a farm, for Andraste’s sake.”

“Farm boy, huh?” Varric mused, “Yeah, I can see that working for you, Curly.”

Cullen gave the dwarf a flat look as Anders snickered. “And here I thought you were some nobleman’s bastard or spare son that they foisted off on the Order because they had nothing better to do. Maybe it’s because you’re so pretty, it’s hard to actually see you, well, doing honest labor. So, parents toss you out? One too many mouths perhaps? I can’t actually see you doing anything  _fun_  to get sent away.”

Cullen shook his head annoyed and trying not to blush further at Anders’ comment. It wasn’t the first time he’d been teased about his looks, and wouldn’t be the last, but Cullen was never truly comfortable with it. “No, nothing like that. I joined the Order because I wanted to help people.”

Something ugly, dangerous, and not quiet human flashed in Anders’ eyes for a moment, then he took a breath. “No, nothing is going to ruin my day of jubilee,” he stated then a disgusted look crossed his face, “almost nothing.”

Cullen turned to look toward the entryway and saw Miriam enter with a man with a hawk like profile, blue eyes, and blindingly white armor tooled in black and gold.

“Who wears white armor?” he muttered, feeling strangely put out by the man’s proximity to Hawke, “might as well wave your hands crying ‘shoot me!’ on the battlefield.”

“Oh, it gets better, Knight Captain,” Anders with genuine annoyance as he and Cullen both took a drink. “Any man willing to tempt the Maker’s wrath by wearing the visage of Andraste on his crotch…”

Cullen nearly choked at the last as Miriam and the newcomer walked over. Anders excused himself muttering something about salvaging his day of jubilee with a game of cards, and Cullen pushed himself to his feet as Hawke came to stand next to him.

“Miri… uhm… Hawke, I’m glad you could make it,” he said, as he felt the newcomer size him up. Cullen chose to ignore the appraisal and concentrate on Miriam. Her blue eyes were dancing as she smiled at him, and he felt his heartbeat quicken a little. That had been happening more and more often over the past few months, but it was understandable. Or at least that’s what Cullen told himself. Miriam Hawke was a beautiful woman after all.

_Or we can go back to the fact she’s an Amell and I’m an idiot._

“Cullen! It’s good to see you,” she said. “I know they’ve been working you to the bone the past few weeks, so I’m glad you were able to get out tonight.”

“It’s been an interesting evening. Anders was actually civil for a moment or two,” Cullen gave Varric a mock questioning glance.

“Two, Curly, it was definitely two,” Varric replied, “Hey, Choir Boy, didn’t expect you to join us tonight.”

The man smiled and looked fondly at Hawke, which made Cullen grit his teeth for some reason. “Hawke thought that I might need to leave the Chantry for a time.”

Hawke shook her head. “Confession, prayer, and repentance are all well and good, but time with friends is a better healer,” she said as she gave Cullen that small smile she seemed to save for him. “Trust me, I speak from experience. I’m also lacking manners. Cullen, this is Sebastian Vael, Sebastian, Cullen Rutherford.”

 Sebastian held out his hand and Cullen took it. “Knight Captain, it’s an honor. Hawke speaks very highly of you.”

“And you as well, your Highness,” Cullen replied politely.

“Please, if we must use titles, it’s ‘Brother Sebastian’,” he replied, melancholy coloring his tone.

“I think we can  _all_  forgo titles tonight, gentlemen, or  _I’ll_  start coming up with nicknames for people,” Hawke told them, wagging her finger in mock anger. “And they won’t be so complementary as Varric’s, I promise!”

The two men looked at each other and Cullen said, “Maker save us from such a fate. The better part of valor, Sebastian?”

“Aye, Cullen, the better part of valor.”

Hawke grinned, impishness flashing in her eyes. “Now that tedious little formality is out of the way, Cullen, I should tell you that Mother has been asking after you. It seems you’re a much better chess player than I am…”

* * *

It had been a very good night, Cullen thought as he walked toward his quarters. He’d found something of a kindred spirit in Sebastian Vael, for all that they came from very different backgrounds. Unfortunately, that spirit seemed to extend to their mutual admiration for Miriam Hawke.

Even since Hawke had returned from the Deep Roads, Cullen had been forced to admit that he had… feelings for her that were warmer than simple friendship. There was nothing untoward in that, and he had no claim on her, of course. But recently, less rational parts of his mind engaged themselves whenever she was concerned.

All his inane thoughts came to a shuttering halt as he saw something moving in the shadows of an alcove. His hand went to the hilt of his sword as he ordered, “Come out.”

There was a whimper and Cullen was about to repeat himself when a young man shuffled into the light. He wore robes and a cowl, and looked straight at the floor so Cullen couldn’t see his face.

“What are you doing in here? And past curfew?” Cullen asked him, as the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

“I can’t tell you, Knight Captain. I…I can’t,” said the boy, his words rusty and mushed.

“Unless the Knight Commander herself ordered you to stay silent, you will tell me  _now_.”

The boy’s head tilted up, and Cullen found himself looking into the ruins of a face. A shattered nose and left cheek, a swollen jaw were the most obvious injuries in a sea of them.

“He’ll make me Tranquil if I tell,” the boy whimpered as Cullen wracked his brain trying to remember the boy’s name. The Gallows were just too damned big to keep track of all the people coming through and…

_Alain. That’s it. One of the mages that came in from Starkhaven._  The realization sent a shudder down Cullen’s spine as he remembered Ser Karras’ report the day the mages had been brought to Kirkwall after escaping.

The boy flinched away as Cullen realized he was staring.  _I need to get him to a healer, and I dare not trust any of the ones here. Who knows who else Karras’ has terrorized._

“Alain?” he said quietly and the boy gave him a jerky nod, “Come with me, stay close, and don’t ask questions.” And with that, Cullen led Alain down and through the old lyrium smuggler tunnels. The caves weren’t the safest place in the world, but at this point they were safer than the Gallows for Alain. It was a thought that made Cullen sick.

When they reached the exit to Darktown, Cullen ushered Alain up and then stopped at a set of doors. They were closed at this hour, but Cullen was willing to chance that he’d find help for the boy here.

“Alain, this is… well, he’s a healer, and he’s not part of the Circle,” Cullen told the young mage then pounded on the door.

There was some shuffling within, and Cullen heard a number of brutal invectives as Anders yanked open the door. “This better be good,” he muttered, and then saw Cullen. “Knight Captain. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I need a healer, Anders.”

“You’ve got plenty at the Circle, go harass them.”

Cullen shook his head, “I don’t trust any of them with this patient.”

“And you trust  _me_?”

Cullen gently led Alain forward. “Tonight I do.”

Anders’ eyes flared, and there was something that might have been a trick of the light that burned for a moment. Something dark and enraged. The same thing that shuttered in the breath the healer took. But his voice was calm as he said, “Bring him in.”

The boy had moved stiffly when Cullen had brought him through the tunnels, but now his steps faltered and Anders caught him. “Easy, let’s get you on the table.”

The healer half carried the boy to the examination table, while Cullen watched. He’d been very careful not to touch Alain at all, because if what he suspected was true… Maker help Karras, because no one else would.

The boy laid down, and Anders did a quick inspection of the facial injuries, then said, “I’m going to need to put you out.” He looked at Cullen who supplied the boy’s name. “It’ll be alright, Alain. No one will hurt you here. I promise.”

The boy whimpered and his good eye widened, but he nodded. Anders carefully laid a hand on his head, and Alain’s muscles relaxed as his eyes fluttered closed. Anders turned to Cullen and said, “The damage is extensive, and that’s just from a cursory inspection.”

“Do whatever you have to, Anders.”

Anders nodded. “Just don’t jostle my elbow, Knight Captain.”

* * *

 Cullen lost track of the time, but he suspected it was probably just past midnight. This was going to be close, but necessary. He wanted to get the boy back before anyone started asking questions, especially Karras. Cullen didn’t want to think about what would happen if the man thought Alain had told someone what had happened, and run. Karras couldn’t risk the boy exposing him, because even Meredith couldn’t turn a blind eye to such egregious abuse of one of her charges. Which was something Cullen was betting on.

Anders finished and turned to Cullen. “He’ll be awake in a few minutes. I have some… friends who can get him away in the morning.”

Cullen shook his head, “No, I’ll take him back as soon as he wakes.”

That ugly rage burned in Anders eyes, “Are you fucking insane? He was raped,  _Knight Captain_. Repeatedly. Some of the scar tissue is so old I can’t do a damned thing about it. He’s got badly healed breaks and it’s amazing he’s still alive. This isn’t just abuse; it’s torture.”

“And if he runs, the man who did this to him will be the one assigned to track him. And have no doubts he’ll have incentive to find the boy,” Cullen pleaded. “If Alain comes back, I have a way to force the bastard who did this to suffer for his crimes. To force him out of the Order or see he’s imprisoned or sentenced to death.”

“If he leaves the Order, he’ll lose his access to lyrium. It’ll either drive him mad, or he’ll be begging on the streets,” Anders mused. “That’s almost a more fitting punishment, but how are you planning on working this little miracle?”

“I’m going to need Aveline, and hopefully, Sebastian.”

“You know Hawke is going to want in when she hears about this.”

Cullen sighed, knowing Anders was right. “Yes, I suppose she will.”

“So have you seen the light, Knight Captain? Or have you been cast down with the sinners and corrupt?” Ser Karras asked as he sauntered down the pathways of the old smuggler caves. Cullen hid a shiver as the Templar unconsciously echoed Anders from the day before.

“Neither, but there is something I need to discuss with you. Something that neither of us would rather be made part of the official record,” Cullen replied. “Something that has to do with Alain, one of the mages who came here from Starkhaven.”

Something ugly flashed in Karras’ eyes, but his face remained pleasantly neutral. “I think I’ve seen the boy here and there, Knight Captain.”

“I’m surprised, Karras, considered you took an intense interest in the welfare of the surviving Starkhaven mages. I would have thought you aware the boy’s been seriously beaten.”

“More likely he fell, Cullen,” Karras snorted. “The Gallows can be dangerous for the unwary after all.”

Cullen tried to hold onto his temper. He refused to give Karras the satisfaction of breaking into a rant. “And a fall also explains evidence of repeated rape?”

“The boy accused me of rape? And you believed him, a robe, rather than defending a fellow Templar?” Karras just stared at Cullen unable to comprehend that the Knight Captain still believed in the ideals of the Order.

“Alain,” Cullen replied, purposely using the boy’s name, “said nothing except that he would be branded Tranquil if he spoke out. That he was raped was the conclusion of the healer who tended to him. Considering your interest in Alain’s welfare, I had hoped you’d be willing to help me see justice done.”

Karras barked a laugh, “I have no idea why Meredith picked you, considering how naïve you are, Cullen. Unless it’s the fact you’re such a good fuck she overlooks your little foibles.” He shook his head, “Now that I think about it, that’s just how the Gallows runs. They’re robes, Cullen. Things. Things don’t require justice. They exist to be used.”

“They’re people, Karras! They deserve to be treated like people.”

“So that they can get full of themselves once more, and nearly destroy the world?” Karras continued to look at Cullen incredulously. “They let themselves be used by demons. Why can’t  _we_  use them? Compensation for being chained to lyrium and the Order. So fine, I’m well aware of the boy’s condition. He’s a sweet little piece. You should try him yourself. He screams so prettily.”

“Enough, Karras.”

Karras’ smile turned truly ugly. “Why? You wanted to know, so know this, Knight Captain. When I have him branded, it’ll be even better. He’ll do whatever I want. I’ll miss the fight, but he’ll still feel pain.”

“I think  _I’ve_  heard enough, Knight Captain,” Aveline Vallen said as she stepped out from behind a bend in the path. “You, Sebastian?”

“More than enough. To think this scum hides behind the aegis of the Sword of Mercy,” the Chantry brother replied from his perch on a ledge above.

“Karras, allow me to introduce Guard Captain Aveline Vallen and Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven, brother of the Chantry,” Cullen said in a polite and neutral tone. “Not even Meredith could ignore the testimony of these two individuals, but I’m willing to offer you a choice. Resign your commission and leave Kirkwall or I will take this to Meredith.”

“Meredith won’t listen. She doesn’t care about the robes, but she will care about the fact you’re trying to dishonor the Order with these accusations.”

“If she won’t listen, then I will be forced to go to the Grand Cleric, and I have Prince Vael’s assurance that Her Grace  _will_  listen. And if there’s a price to be paid, I’ll pay it, for unlike you, I have the courage of my convictions.”

“Your convictions will do you little when lyrium withdrawal sets in.”

“I’m willing to pay that price, Karras. Now decide.”

“I decide to leave this place,  _Knight Captain_ , and neither your witnesses or the boy will be of use,” Karras said with a smile, then looked at Aveline. “You’ve made a number of enemies, Guard Captain. I’m sure a few of those might owe favor enough to see something untoward happens. And as for the ‘Prince’… There are still so  _many_  vying for Starkhaven’s throne who would see you dead. It would be child’s play to have an assassin lurking among the Templars serving at the Chantry.”

There was a loud  _click_  and Varric stepped from yet another shadow. “You owe me five sovereigns, Knight Captain. I told you he’d try this kind of shit.”

“It would be better just to kill him,” Fenris said coldly as he seemingly materialized out of thin air. “His kind never learn.”

“You see, Karras, the Knight Captain’s got friends in low places too,” Hawke pointed out as she stepped from Cullen’s shadow, “and we don’t like you very much.”

Fenris took a step toward the Templar and his tattoos began to glow. “I have little love for mages, but even less for your ilk, Karras. Your heart is still in your chest because the Knight Captain believes in law and justice. Your threats, however, are trying my patience.”

“Decide, Karras,” Cullen repeated.

Karras’ eyes went wide as he felt lyrium’s song emanate from the elf. He looked every which way, and found himself surrounded. His eyes found Cullen once more and said, “You would kill a brother knight over a  _robe_?”

“A man who would violate his oath, who would abuse a young man whom he is tasked to  _protect_  is no brother of mine. One last time, Karras. Decide.”

“ _No!_ ” Karras shouted as he threw himself, not at Cullen, but at Hawke, the woman who had brought him to this pass a year ago. Cullen reacted instinctively, swinging her out of the way, as a  _twang_  filled the air. The crossbow bolt punched through Karras’ armor, into his left flank, just above the hip bone. The man collapsed screaming as the last of Cullen’s party stepped out.

Karras’ eyes were closed against the pain, and Anders knelt down beside him. A soft touch of his fingers on the rogue Templar’s forehead and then the apostate looked up. “The kidney is, for all intents and purposes, gone. There’s massive bleeding into the abdomen, and damage to the large intestine. He’ll either die of a massive infection or blood loss. Either way, it’ll take time.” The mage stood up and looked at Cullen who had pushed himself up, and was already drawing a dagger. “Let me guess, you’re going to give him mercy.”

“Not for his sake, Anders, but for mine. I refuse to become like him.”

Karras made a bloody choking noise, rendering the argument moot as Hawke slit his throat. Both men stared at her as she cleaned off her short blade, but she said nothing.

“Well, this is going to be fun to clean up,” Varric noted. “Fortunately, I figured things were gonna to go to shit, and actually prepared. Curly, I got this, and after I’m done, nobody is going to be looking your way. But I better get things in motion.” Varric nodded to everyone and vanished back toward Darktown.

“We should go so Varric can work his little miracle,” Hawke said, “I think I need a drink.”

* * *

 “Knight Captain!” Ser Ruvena called from across the Gallows courtyard. Cullen turned as she approached. He’d been tense the entire day, waiting for the consequences of his actions to be made known. It seemed the time had come.

“The Knight Commander wants to see you immediately, Ser,” the young knight said as she came to a halt in front of him and saluted.

“Thank you, Ser Ruvena,” he replied, returning the gesture. “Dismissed.”

“Yes, Ser.”

Cullen strode to Meredith’s office and knocked politely on the door.

“Come.”

He entered, closing the door behind him, came to attention and saluted, “You wished to see me, Knight Commander?” he asked.

Meredith returned his salute and said, “Stand easy, Knight Captain.” Cullen complied with her request and then she pointed at her desktop. A medium sized purse, spilling gold coins and a slender book sat atop it. “Ser Karras has disappeared. I had his room searched in hopes of finding clues as to his whereabouts. Instead we found this.” She handed Cullen a ledger. Terse notations on quantity and cost filled the pages as Cullen realized what he was looking at.

“The quartermaster’s logs for our lyrium supplies have been altered. From the ledger and what we can glean from the logs, Karras had only just started this enterprise.”

Cullen looked up at her. “You think he ran afoul of his… associates, Knight Commander?”

“I do, and I intend to question a number of Karras’ cronies here at the Gallows as well. I’ve already assigned a knight to the investigation, but I may want you to sit in on one or two of the interrogations,” Meredith said, her voice conversational but there was fury in her eyes. “That Karras would steal the Order’s life’s blood to enrich himself… That is all, Knight Captain. Dismissed.”

“Yes, Knight Commander.” Cullen left the room with a strange mix of emotions. He felt something akin to awe in Varric’s framing of Karras. He had no idea how the dwarf had managed it, and intended never to ask, but it was surprisingly elegant and believable. At the same time, he felt sick and angry at the idea that Meredith was furious over a theft, but would not bat an eye at Karras’ true crimes.

_How did it come to this? How did I not see this before?_  He asked himself, but there was no real answer.

* * *

“We have to do something,” Sebastian said. “This is insane.”

“Sanity does seem to be in short supply at the moment.,” Cullen replied as Anders just snorted. Anders had reluctantly agreed to host this impromptu gathering as the clinic was one of the few places that they could be sure was secure. Hawke’s estate was another, but Cullen was adamant about not getting Leandra involved, even accidentally. 

“I agree with Sebastian, on both points,” Aveline commented, “but unless we can find a way either to get through to Meredith or convince the Grand Cleric to intervene, our options are limited.”

Hawke was perched on the edge of the examination table. “Sebastian, what would it take to get Elthina to get involved?”

“Elthina is a good woman, and wants to believe the best of people,” Sebastian offered, “But offer her proof. A true pattern of abuse that the Knight Commander cannot wave away or claim is an aberration.”

Cullen nodded, “Unfortunately, that will take time.”

“Time that you don’t have,” Anders said looking at them all.

Cullen met his glare with calm eyes, though heat simmered in his voice. “Is that a threat, Anders?”

“No, and yes,” the mage replied, never taking his eyes off the Templar, and when he spoke once more, it was directly to Cullen. “When I was in Amaranthine I found out the College of Magi was convening to seriously discuss the Libertarians' proposal to break from the Chantry. All it would take is a simple majority, and we have war. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“The deaths of hundreds, if not thousands are ‘better’ than a peaceful solution?” Sebastian said, stunned.

“Andraste didn’t change the world by singing hymns. She changed it by the sword. Now all of you, out. It’s been a long few days, and I need sleep.”

The four filed out of the clinic and moved to go their separate ways when Cullen caught up with Hawke.

“He’s unstable, Miriam,” Cullen said quietly, “and that makes him dangerous.”

“He’s also doing a great deal of good down here, Cullen. He’s helping so many,” she replied. “How can we justify taking him away knowing that?”

Cullen looked at her and shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s a good enough reason. If he becomes a threat…”

“If he becomes a true threat, Cullen, I’ll kill him myself.”


	8. Letter to Mia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen writes his older sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, it's just one letter and I tried to make it as Cullen like as possible especially when dealing with telling Mia about Hawke.

9:32 Dragon

 

_Mia,_

_You are correct in that I have no excuse for not writing after the Blight ended. All I can offer is something of an explanation._

_There were difficulties in the Circle well before the darkspawn reached Kinloch Hold. I would spare you the details, but it was a trying time for all involved. Afterward, it was decided that those of us who survived the Blight would be transferred for various reasons. Thus I was sent to Kirkwall. Again, this is no excuse on my part, Mia, and I do not expect my explanation to truly mollify you, but it is all I have._

_When I arrived in Kirkwall the Knight Commander, Meredith Stannard, chose to promote me to Knight Captain. Usually the rank takes years to achieve, and while I am doing all I can to prove her trust, many of the older knights resent my elevation. They also resent that I am from Ferelden, as there is a great deal of animosity toward those of our countrymen who fled to the Marches during the Blight.  Thus I have made few friends among the Order here._

_I have made acquaintances among some of the refugees. One in particular: Miriam Hawke. She and her mother and sister came from Lothering, and that they have succeeded in building a life here against all odds is impressive. I find myself lucky to have met her, for she is like few friends I’ve had. Miriam is intelligent, witty, with a great deal of integrity and loyal to a fault. She is also one of the strongest and most compassionate people I’ve ever known._

_Between her and the friends I’ve made through her, you needn’t be concerned that I might isolate myself as you thought might happen at Kinloch Hold. In fact, I doubt Miriam would_ let _me do such a thing._

_I promise to write more when there’s time, and please give my best wishes to Branson and Rosalie. I do miss all of you, even if my actions the past few years haven’t demonstrated that fact._

_-Cullen_

_PS I know what you’re doing with this challenge of yours, Mia, and even though it’s a rather sneaky way of attempting to have me write you more often, I accept. Knight to King’s three_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all for 9:32 I think. 9:33 is going to get rougher and darker. I hadn't expected to deal with as dark material as the plot bits that are popping into my head now, but this _is_ Dragon Age, so I shouldn't be surprised. I do think, at the end, the dark bits will make Cullen and Hawke's relationship more realistic because it won't just been Cullen sitting at home waiting for her, and it will show the costs of being a templar beyond the lyrium addiction.


	9. There Was a Little Girl...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A routine retrieval mission becomes a lesson about the harsh realities of a Templar's duty, and Cullen faces down one of his worst fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Potentially disturbing images, and death of a child.
> 
> Generally dark stuff.

_There was a little girl,_

_Who had a little curl,_

_Right in the middle of her forehead._

_When she was good,_

_She was very good indeed,_

_But when she was bad she was horrid._

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

9:33 Dragon

“Shield  _up_ , Jessup! A demon isn’t going to wait for you to get in the right position!” Cullen yelled at one of the younger knights practicing in the Gallows courtyard. “Ruvena, tighten that stance. You’re leaving yourself open.”

“They’re going to hate you,” a voice said from behind him. Cullen didn’t turn around, but waited until Ser Thrask was standing even with him.

“If they hate me, they hate me, Thrask. But better they hate me and come back alive than like me and die because I stinted on their training,” Cullen replied as he watched the knights. “Hugh, faster this time. This isn’t some Orlesian waltz.”

Thrask watched the junior Knights for a moment. “You bully them like this, they might just break.”

“Mikal over there was given to the Order when he was six. He’s a good young man, but he’s no swordsman and never will be. He has the basics, and I make sure he keeps them sharp, but I’ll recommend to the Knight Commander he’d be given non-combat duty,” Cullen said quietly. “Ruvena, better, now do it again. Paxley, you’re overextending again, tighten up. Hugh. Paxley and Ruvena are all good with the sword, and I’m making sure they have the tools to survive. And then there’s Jessup. He’s a natural born swordsman and unfortunately, he knows it. He needs to learn talent only goes so far. But I do give praise as well as correction, Ser Thrask.” Cullen turned his head to look at the older knight. “I doubt you came here to criticize my training technique.”

“There’s been a certain amount of gossip, even all these months later, about Karras, Knight Captain.”

Cullen turned back to watch the sparring knights. “I don’t listen to gossip, Ser Thrask, as I find it unreliable. Still, I don’t understand why you bring this to me now.”

“You’re Meredith’s second, and there’s speculation that she knows what happened, but is concealing it for some reason.”

“If Knight Commander Meredith knew who was behind Ser Karras’ disappearance, she’d personally lead a squadron to burn them from the face of Thedas, and well you know it,” Cullen replied with a bark of laughter.

“I thought as much, but there is other speculation as well. Speculation that it might have something to do with the Starkhaven mages.”

 _He’s fishing,_ Cullen thought,  _but for what?_  What he once thought of as minor fractures in the Templar garrison here in Kirkwall were actually fault lines, making a volatile situation even more explosive. Considering Thrask had no real love for Meredith or her methods, he had distrusted Cullen on general principle. For him to strike up this conversation now made him wonder if Thrask had found something that caused him to suspect Cullen’s involvement in all this. All he said aloud was “You know better than I that Ser Karras felt slighted at the fact that it was you who finally retrieved them, not him.”

“I suppose there’s truth in that,” Thrask replied thoughtfully. “You’re an interesting man, Knight Captain, and I will leave you to your work.”

Cullen simply nodded to the older knight, then turned to order the Jessup, Ruvena, Hugh and the rest to walk the perimeter of the courtyard to cool down when a commotion caught his attention. Within a few moments, one of the gate guards brought up a woman dressed in homespun. Her eyes flickered warily around the courtyard, and she seemed to shrink in on herself. Cullen didn’t blame her in the least, since the Gallows had been specifically designed to cow the slaves who once lived here.

“Knight Captain? Mistress Tanner here says she needs to speak with you,” Ser Wilhelm said when the pair reached him.

The woman was small, and reminded Cullen of a sparrow with her quick movements, darting eyes and startled timidity. “My name is Cullen Rutherford, Mistress Tanner, how may I be of service?” he asked in a quiet voice, doing the best he could not to overwhelm her further.

Her bright eyes fixed on him and blinked. “Ah, Bell Tanner, Ser, and it’s my brother’s girl. She’s been doing things she ought not do. Lighting fires with a wave of a hand and the like. I tells him she needs to come down to Kirkwall, but he won’t have it. Says she’s his little girl, not some mage. But who else could do such things?”

Cullen nodded, “How old is your niece, Mistress Tanner?”

“Ten, Ser, and it’s only been a few days, maybe a week since this all started,” she replied. “I tried to talk some sense into him, I did. Maybe I should of come sooner.”

“You did the right thing, Mistress. How far is your brother’s farm from here?”

She blinked at Cullen again, and he wondered if it was nerves or simply something she did normally. “It’s a few hours ride from here. But if we don’t go back soon, he’ll know. Henna talked about running afore the Order could find out.”

“Alright,” he said then waved to the younger knights, “Mikal, go to the horse master, and tell him we’ll need five horses, and then please give the Knight Commander my complements, and inform her of the situation and that I intend to take a party out to retrieve the child.”

“Yes, Ser!” the boy said as he saluted and ran off. Cullen then turned to the others.

“Jessup, Ruvena, Hugh, Paxley. You’re with me. Full arms and armor. Be back here in fifteen minutes.”

“Ser!” they acknowledged in unison and strode off.

Cullen looked back at Mistress Tanner, who was glancing about, her eyes blinking as if the sun was too bright. “I doubt this will be a problem, Mistress,” he told the woman calmly even as he thought,  _It’ll be good practice for them._

“No,” she said, her voice odd, “No problem at all.”

* * *

 

 It was midafternoon when the party reached the Tanner farm. Bell, who had been riding double with Ruvena, was quiet, but when they reached the outskirts of the farm, her bird bright eyes glazed over.

“Can you hear that?” she asked in a sing song voice.

Cullen reigned in his horse and looked at the woman in mounting horror. There was no sound, no people working the fields, no animal calls, no birds, nothing. “Hear what?”

“The song,” Bell said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She said when I heard the song everything would be fine.”

 _Blessed Andraste, a trap!_  Cullen berated himself. _And I walked into it like a credulous idiot and brought four inexperienced knights with me._ Aloud all he said was, “Dammit, she’s enthralled. Ruvena, we’ll tie the horses to this post, and you stay with Mistress Tanner.”

“And if something happens?” she asked and Cullen saw the unvoiced question in her eyes.

“Subdue her if you can, but your safety takes priority. Understood?”

“Yes, Ser.”

“Good.” Cullen looked at the three young men and said, “Keep close. We’ll search the house first, then the outbuildings.” At that he unlimbered his shield and drew his sword. Jessup, Hugh and Paxley followed his lead, though if they were slightly shaky Cullen wasn’t going to criticize at the moment. “You’ve been trained for this,” he told them quietly. “Trust in that training, and in each other.” Cullen took their silence as understanding and led them toward the farmhouse.

* * *

 

 Upon entering the small home, the knights were immediately assaulted by a rancid scent. Cullen somehow managed to keep the nausea at bay, but the younger men looked green.

“Rotted meat,” Paxley choked as the others looked at him. “My Pa’s a butcher, so smelled the like before.”

Cullen nodded then looked around. The room they had entered seemed to be the main living space, and centered on a decent sized table, with four chairs. A meal was set upon the table, including slices of meat on each plate. And in two of the chairs, dressed in what had to be their finest clothing, were the bodies of a man and a woman. The man held a resemblance to Bell Tanner, and both bodies were posed as if to celebrate a banquet.

“Out! Now!” Cullen shouted, herding the others through the door. He had hoped that this was a blood mage playing with them. It would have been the lesser of two evils, but on seeing those bodies posed like dolls, he knew. An abomination.

The creature greeted them in the yard of the farmhouse. Cullen felt the other knights freeze behind him, but he managed to push forward, as he felt tiny fingers reach into his mind.

_Stubborn and lovely, such a wonderful combination._

Cullen focused on the Canticle of Transfigurations, keeping it on the surface of his mind; making it more difficult for the creature to read. “Stay. Out. Of. My. Head.”

The abomination was fair of face, or would have been if not for the sadistic amusement on its face. “These others are soft. Easy. But you, lovely Templar, you’ve been touched by my kind before. It’s left a mark on you.”

He continued to push forward, but it was like fighting against a high wind. He needed to be just a little closer, but then he felt the pressure of the creature’s mind break through his defenses. Cullen screamed in pain and defiance, throwing more mental walls between himself and the demon, but it withdrew with an amused laugh.

“You did not yield to my kin,” it giggled, “and you believe you will not yield to  _me_. But you want to. And to the pretty Hawke girl who haunts you no less.”

“No,” he hissed.

It raised an eyebrow in mock question. “Deny if you wish, but I have seen it. Most would seek to dominate, control. It is so… common. Not you, though. You weary of it; like a weight you desperately wish to shed. Still you fear what might happen when you do, and that she might turn from you.”

Cullen refused to listen as he pushed forward, but each step felt heavy and the demon seemed miles away for all it was a few feet from him.

“I can ensure that does not happen, lovely Templar. I can give you what you desire, and all you need to is what you wish: surrender.”

Cullen stopped in his tracks, and looked the demon in the eye. His defenses yielded just enough and the creature pounced. Only to be met by a blade formed of lyrium and will. The thing screamed as he rushed those last few feet. His sword flashed red, and then it was over.

“Ser!” Ruvena shouted as she made her way across the yard, Bell Tanner collapsed on the ground behind her.

“Mistress Tanner?” Cullen barely recognized his own voice.

“Alive, Ser, but I doubt she’ll be right in the head after this,” the young woman replied as the other knights gathered about him.

“Understood. Take her back to Kirkwall, and report in. The Chantry has handled cases like this before, maybe they can help her,” he told them. “The rest of you, I saw a woodpile. We have pyres to prepare.”

* * *

 

 They rode into the Gallows late that evening. Grooms awaited them, taking weary horses to be tended. Several recruits waited to do the same for the younger knights, but Cullen was told to report directly to the Knight Commander.

He entered Meredith’s office to find that the First Enchanter was also in attendance, something he found odd. He nodded politely to Orsino, and saluted Meredith. “Knight Commander.”  

“Ser Ruvena gave a preliminary report, but I wish to hear your account, Knight Captain.”

“Yes, Ser,” he replied and gave an unflinching report of the incident, keeping back only what the demon said of Hawke. All the while fighting the blackness that had enveloped him since leaving the farm.

At the end, Meredith nodded, and then looked at Orsino. “I trust that will suffice, First Enchanter?”

Orsino turned hot eyes on the woman, “It does… Knight Commander.”

“Then you are dismissed.”

The elf turned, his face composed into a polite mask, but his eyes still burned as he left the office. Meredith watched him go, then spoke. “I apologize, Knight Captain, but Orsino’s agitations of late, required an object lesson.” She shook her head. “The Chantry has several former Templars, wounded in the line of duty, but still wished to serve. They’ve acted as counselors in these types of matters before. It won’t heal the wounds suffered today, but hopefully it’ll help Hugh, Jessup, Ruvena and Paxley in some small way.”

Cullen tried to hide his surprise, as Meredith’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Did you believe I didn’t know their names, Cullen?” she asked in a voice that might hold amusement, then she sighed. “I know what people think of me, and some of that is the truth. I’ve sacrificed a great deal of myself over the years, and it  _has_  made me cold. It is a price I would pay several times over, however, since I believe it is the right one. It does not mean I will not see our people taken care of, or that I can't dredge up a measure of compassion for our brothers and sisters in arms.” This time, she  _did_  smile, ever so slightly, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. “I won’t lose any of our people to melancholy if I can help it. And that included you, Cullen. You have leave the next few days. Do whatever you need to recover yourself.”

“Thank you, Knight Commander.”

* * *

 

 A day later, Bodahn Feddic ushered Cullen into the foyer of the Hawke estate. Wearing a simple tunic and breeches, he felt vulnerable. The dwarf went to fetch Hawke as Leandra emerged from her suite.

“Cullen!” she said, smiling. “What are you doing here? I’d have thought you’d be on duty.” She studied his face a moment, and with that intuition all mothers seemed to have, asked, “What happened?”

He shook his head, “Nothing I wish to burden you with, Mistress Leandra, but I truly appreciate the concern.”

Before Leandra could object, Hawke came down the stairs. Cullen looked up at her, remembering the demon’s words. “I’m sorry, Miriam, I shouldn’t have bothered either of you in the middle of the day like this. Perhaps later?”

Hawke exchanged looks with her mother then said, “Perhaps you shouldn’t even think about leaving, Cullen.”

“I’ll let you two alone, then,” Leandra said as she took both Cullen’s hands for a moment and squeezed tight. “If there’s anything I can do, ask,” she told him and left.

Hawke took his arm and led him into the library. Settling him in one of the chairs, she knelt and took his hands. “Talk,” she told him.

“Really, Hawke, I shouldn’t burden you with this. You have problems…”

“ _Talk,_ ” she commanded, brooking no argument.

Again, he reported the incident. Again editing out what the demon had discovered, but this time he could not hide the sickness in his voice. When Cullen finished, he waited for Miriam to turn from his in horror, but all he saw was compassion in her eyes. “Miriam, I…”

She said nothing, but drew him up out of the seat, and wrapped her arms about him, holding him close. Cullen stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and returned the embrace. “I’m here, Cullen, for as long as you need me. I’m here.”

With those words, tears began to fall, and if Cullen wept in silence, he was not alone. Miriam rested her head on his shoulder, whispering soothing noises, and through the pain, he felt something lighten within. It was a small thing, barely noticeable, but there. And maybe, it was a beginning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise a little lighter for the next chapter. Yes the first rumblings of Alrik's "solution" and Hawke takes that holiday into the Vinmarks to see what the Wardens have been hiding. But... Wicked Grace, and a first kiss. I hope.


	10. Wicked Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a seemingly ordinary game of Wicked Grace at the _Hanged Man_ , Hawke raises the stakes in a way that changes everything between her and Cullen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. I thought this was going to be longer and deal with parts of Legacy and beginning hints of Alrik's "Tranquil Solution". But this was just too damned cute, and this is a major reference in _Come the Inquisitor_
> 
> Plus it's just too damn cute. 
> 
> I suppose the kiss might be considered NSFW, so I'm covering myself with the warning. Enjoy!

9:33 Dragon

“Your cards aren’t going to change, no matter how long you stare at them, Hawke,” Cullen told her. He knew he’d slipped into the kind of tone he would use with a particularly slow recruit, but he couldn’t help it. Cullen would never be the best card player in Thedas. That didn’t matter since he was doing well _tonight_. And this last hand of Wicked Grace was down to the two of them.

“Hmmm?” she said absently, though Cullen was certain it was a pose to rile him. The pot was a good one, and he had a nearly unbeatable hand, so he suspected she was playing with him for some strange reason, if only to forestall the inevitable loss.

_Or she’s simply being Hawke,_  he told himself,  _maddening woman._  The thought made him smile, as did a rather perverse idea that made its way into his mind. Satinalia was within the next month, and while Cullen would tithe a portion of his winnings to the Chantry, he had more than enough to purchase a decent gift for Hawke this year. He suddenly had to fight to keep that smile from becoming a grin as he considered what might be appropriate. 

“Alright, I’ll raise,” Hawke said, bringing him back from his reverie.

“Well, finally,” Isabela said from where she leaned on the wall. The pirate had lost more than a bit of coin tonight and was in the process of drinking herself not only under the table, but under the tavern. The murmured conversations died down as the rest of the table focused on Hawke as well. Everyone was there tonight, with the exception of Anders, who was fighting the epidemic of influenza that had spread through Darktown.

“We’ve been playing for coin all night, Cullen,” she said casually, “but might I suggest something a little more interesting?”

He narrowed his eyes, “Like what?”

Hawke broke out in a brilliant smile at the question. “I’ll bet a week’s worth of being at your beck and call. I’ll runs errands for you anywhere in Kirkwall,” she told him. “Elfroot from Sundermount? Something from the Black Emporium, perhaps?”

“The Black Emporium is a…” He stopped and looked at her. “It’s not a myth is it? How did you…?”

“Do you really want her to answer that question, Curly?” Varric laughed.

Cullen’s eyes flickered sideways to the dwarf and sighed. “No, I probably don’t, and while I appreciate the offer, Hawke, I have nothing to bet in kind, as I lack the same measure of leisure time you seem to possess.”

“Smart move,” Varric commented, “I’ve made it a personal rule to never bet against Hawke.”

Cullen gave an incredulous snort. “You’ve been betting against her all night, Varric, and you’ve won.”

Varric shook his head. “Money’s one thing, but up the stakes like this? No, in the big things, never bet against Hawke. She always finds a way to pull things out.”

Cullen really couldn’t argue the man’s point. But this was still somewhat trivial, wasn’t it?

“Take the bet, Cullen,” Isabela goaded him. “I want to see Hawke as your beck and call girl.”

Cullen flushed at the pirate’s comment, which sounded vaguely obscene, then sighed. “Alright, Hawke. Your weeks' worth of errands versus an unnamed favor. Anything you wish, as long as it does not conflict with my duties.”

“I accept, Knight Captain,” she told him, then looked around the table. “Witness?” Cullen raised his eyebrows at Hawke formally asking for their wager to be witnessed, but at the same time it’d make it more difficult for her to talk her way out when she lost. As the murmurs of assent faded, Cullen laid down his cards.

“I expect you tomorrow just after dawn. I don’t  _think_  I’ll need anything from the Emporium, but I’m sure I’ll find enough work to keep you out of mischief for a week,” he told Hawke smugly.

She cocked her head slightly as she looked at his cards, then smiled in a way he was coming to dread. It was a dangerous kind of smile, and something too intense for words burned in her eyes. “Very magnanimous of you, Knight Captain. That is, if you’d won the hand,” she said in a polite voice that was at odds with the queer light in her eyes. “However, you haven’t.” With that she showed her hand, causing Cullen to choke.

“That’s impossible,” he managed when he could breath. “The chances of you having… You cheated!”

The table erupted in laughter, and Cullen felt his ears burn as Varric’s earlier commentary came back to haunt him. He shot the dwarf a quelling look and Varric just shrugged and continued to grin.

“Cullen,” Isabela told him laughingly, “this is  _Wicked Grace_. If you don’t cheat, you aren’t playing right!”

“Fine,” he retorted then turned to Hawke. “I owe you one unnamed favor.”

She nodded, that queer light still burning in her eyes, and dangerous smile on her lips. “I think I’ll collect sooner rather than later, Cullen.”

He sighed.  _This is probably not going to end well,_ he thought to himself. There was too much setup. Even if she hadn’t cheated, which Cullen knew was most likely the case despite his protests, the whole situation offered her a perfect opportunity to tease him. “Alright, Hawke, what would you like?”

“A kiss.”

Cullen suddenly felt as if the world had blinked. He couldn’t have heard her right. It was impossible that he’d heard her right. “Beg pardon?” he asked, confused and out of his depth.

“A kiss, and a real one. Not some quick peck on the lips.”

“Here?  _Now_?” Cullen yelped, turning to look at the rest of the table for help. Varric and Isabela were useless in this regard, but someone else might be willing to talk some sense, or propriety at least, into her. It was not to be, however.

“Can he even do that?” Merrill asked then turned to Cullen, “Can you do that?” Her green eyes were wide and guileless as usual, which made Cullen just want to scream.

A bittersweet sigh escaped Aveline as she told the elf woman, “He can, Merrill.”

The Knight Captain’s pleading gaze then turned to Fenris and Sebastian. The latter hadn’t actually played due to his vows, but he happily made teasing commentary on the sinfulness of gambling appropriate to the winners and losers of each hand.

“My son,” the Chantry brother smiled beatifically, “you should never make such an open-ended wager.”

“And you should never bet against Hawke,” Varric added with a great deal of satisfaction.

“That too,” Sebastian agreed with a grin.

Fenris just shook his head and turned to the exiled Prince, “My question is: should we pity or envy the poor Knight Captain?”

“Envy, of course,” Sebastian replied, looking at Hawke. There was a wistful tone in his voice as he spoke. “It’s not every day that one is offered a kiss from a woman of Hawke’s quality, after all.”

Hawke had patiently waited out the commentary then bestowed a smile on the Prince. “You say the sweetest things!” She looked at Cullen as he started to rise, wanting to get this farcical business over with. “No, stay seated.”

“H-Hawke?” he pleaded with her, a part of him wanted to do nothing more than run, but a smaller part was exultant. He felt like a man poised on the edge of a cliff, with the ground giving way beneath him. Cullen tried to think of how to back away when she slipped into his lap, facing him as she straddled his waist. He fought back a groan as she fitted herself against him, wrapping her arms about his neck. He found himself looking up into nearly black eyes, barely rimmed with blue and burning with that same intensity. But her smile had changed. It was the small smile, the warm smile, the one she seemed to save for him.

“Cullen,” she breathed in his ear, “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

With those words, Cullen fell.

The first press of her lips against his intoxicated him like nothing he’d ever thought possible. He moaned, and her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring, tangling with his own. His hands instinctively went to her hips, holding her tight against him. Her hands moved upward, fingers burying themselves in his hair. The kiss was terrifyingly perfect. And  ** _real_**.

_More, please, I need…_

Hawke reached down for the laces on his tunic, her intent obvious, and he fought back another moan. Everything else was forgotten: where they were, who else was there. None of it mattered. All that mattered was that Miriam Hawke wanted him. But before Cullen could do anything about it; someone cleared their throat.

Hawke pulled back from him, and this time he did moan. “My lady,” he whispered pleadingly, as he looked at her. Her sapphire rimmed black eyes returned his gaze, and her lips were swollen from their kiss. Cullen heard her gasp at the endearment that had slipped from him, and she leaned back in…

“You two are so damn  _cute_ ,” Varric said, breaking the mood in a spectacular fashion. “It’s a little sickening to be honest. But if you’re going to keep being cute, I’m going to ask you do it somewhere that’s not my suite?”

“If Cullen wants to keep being cute in my room, I’m game,” Isabela commented, eyeing both of them lasciviously. “You too, Hawke,” she continued as an afterthought.

“ _Isabela._ ” Everything stopped at that moment as Hawke turned to look at the pirate. Her usually expressive face was devoid of emotion, but her voice was harsh, dark and possessive. Cullen tried to shake off the sensual haze even as a small part took pleasure in the fact that Hawke was being possessive of  _him_.

Isabela narrowed her eyes speculatively for a moment, then muttered, “Fine, Hawke, but you truly do take all the fun out of life.”

Hawke snorted then turned to look at Cullen once more. “Sorry,” she murmured to him.

“No! I mean I… it wasn’t… It was nice,” he told her, but even as he spoke he wanted to kick himself.

_Nice? The most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to you and you call it_ ‘nice’ _?_  He asked himself,  _Maker’s breath, Cullen, you truly are an idiot._

“Nice?” she asked, echoing his thoughts, and all he could do was nod, hoping that he could communicate how he felt without any blasted words. Thankfully, Hawke seemed to understand, because that small smile graced her lips once more. “Good.”

“Alright you two, enough,” Aveline said, standing. “Varric’s right, and I’d rather not have to arrest you for public indecency.”

Cullen choked as Hawke laughed and stood once more. “Fine, Aveline, we’ll be good,” she told her oldest friend.

“I told you envious,” Sebastian commented wryly, “the Knight Captain is a very lucky man.”

“Well, he can be lucky as he wants,” Varric replied. “As long as it’s somewhere else.”

Cullen somehow managed to collect enough of his wits at this point to manage a moderately quelling glare. “If you’re done?” he asked though his voice was still vaguely breathy. It, however, did the trick, and the group began to break up to head toward their respective homes.

A few deep breaths and Cullen stood, thankful that his knees held as he did. He was a bit lightheaded, and unsure of how to proceed.

“Walk me home?” Hawke asked him, her voice soft.

“Uhm… I-I would love… I mean, yes, of course,” he managed, suddenly wondering how he’d ever managed to get a coherent sentence out in any of their conversations. And if he’d ever be able to do so again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is: the first kiss. Now we'll be moving on to Legacy and Tranquility, and unlike most of the chapters which have been mostly stand alone, Chapter Eleven will pick up where Ten ended. So we go back to the slightly dark.


	11. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen faces his feelings for Miriam Hawke as a series of attacks by Carta dwarves force Hawke and the rest of her merry band of misfits to take action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much angst on Cullen's part in this one. And kissing. More kissing :).
> 
> Unlike the rest of the chapters, this one takes place right after the events in Wicked Kiss.

Cullen and Hawke were climbing the steps to Hightown when he finally recovered enough of his wits to say something to her.

“It’s a nice evening out,” he offered into the silence. Yes, it was utterly meaningless small talk, but it was something.

That same smile curled out at him, and his heart skipped a beat as she said, “I suppose. For Kirkwall, at least. I miss being able to step out the door and see stars.”

“There’s a pond near where I grew up. I used to go there often to think; the view of the night sky was stunning,” he replied.

“You’ve never said much about where you’re from,” Hawke mentioned in a neutral voice, but there was curiosity in her eyes.

“Not much to tell, really. I grew up in Honnleath,” he told her with a shrug.

She laughed, “We were practically neighbors then!”

“Neighbors? I suppose if you include every living soul in Ferelden in that definition, it may be true.”

“Why not? I like to think big,” Hawke was grinning at him now and he had to fight not to smile back.

“You, Miriam Hawke, are insane,” he managed with a somewhat respectable glower.

“And you love me for it,” she laughed once more.

The words hit him like a hammer blow and he stumbled, which was the only thing that saved his life as two arrow cracked into the wall to his left. Instinct took command as he drew his sword, and dropped into a defensive stance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the archer’s body fall from a scaffold, one of Hawke’s throwing spikes lodged in his throat.

 _Maker curse it! I should have been paying more attention!_ Cullen thought to himself. All of Hawke’s friends had become used to the fact their faces were well known among the gangs haunting Kirkwall these days, and none of those gangs wanted to risk a tangle. Hawke complained loudly that they had to go _looking_ for the street thugs now, rather than simply being jumped by them. But as their assailants moved in, Cullen realized they weren’t average street thugs.

“Carta,” Cullen said as he and Hawke moved back to back.

“It’s her,” one of the dwarves said. “Kill the man, but we need the blood of the Hawke unspoiled.” 

 _The blood of the Hawke?_ The words flowed through Cullen’s mind, but were quickly filed away for later as he engaged the closest dwarf. The men fought as if possessed, but he knew that was impossible. Yet they came on, and for each one cut down, two seemed to take his place.

“Ahhh!” Hawke cried out, as a small dagger lodge in her side.

“Miriam!” he shouted and shifted his stance to place himself between Hawke and their assailants. Fury burned within him, but Cullen refused to give into his rage. Instead he channeled it into every sword stroke, but there were just too many.

“I said unspoiled!” the leader yelled, then screamed as the Kirkwall Guard arrived.

With the death of their leader, the will of the dwarves seemed to break, and they attempted to scatter, only to be cut down by the Guard.

Cullen let the guardsmen do their work as he dropped to one knee besides Hawke. “Maybe I should start wearing my armor again?” she said in a voice filled with pain.

“Maybe we both should,” Cullen replied, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

“Knight Captain!”

Cullen looked up to see Brennen appear. “Thank the Maker!” he said to her, “Hawke’s been wounded. Get the healer from Darktown.”

“Done, Ser,” Brennen told him, then began issuing orders. She turned back to Cullen and said, “I’ll help you get her home, and I’ve sent someone to fetch the Captain.”

“Aveline is going to be upset,” Hawke muttered as Cullen checked the wound.

“I’m more worried about your mother,” he told her as he checked the wound. Bleeding had slowed, but there was no way of knowing how bad the damage really was without Anders. “Easy, Hawke,” Cullen continued as Brennen helped get her upright.

Miriam winced as they half carried her back to the estate. “One of these days I’m going to remember I’m not actually invincible,” she said with a pained smile.

“No, you won’t. Maddening woman,” he replied trying to keep her alert.

“You’re probably right, Cullen,” she said with a grimace, “you’d have less to complain about if I did, and we can’t have that, can we?”

“Hawke…”

“Yes?”

“Be quiet.”

 

* * *

“Miriam!” Leandra cried as Cullen and Brennen brought Hawke into the great room of the family estate. They settled her gently on the couch as Albrecht, the family mabari trotted up. Cullen knelt down next to him for a moment, but looked up at Hawke’s mother.

“We already called for Anders, Leandra,” he said, absently omitting his customary use of an honorific, “we’ve stanched the bleeding so she should be all right.”

“He’s right, Mother, I’ll be fine.” Hawke added.

Cullen turned his attention to the mabari sitting in front of him. “Could you go with Brennen and check the rest of the house, Albrecht?” he asked.

The dog cocked his head to one side, then made a chuffing noise, leading the guardswoman deeper into the estate.

The Templar stood as another guardsman entered with Anders on his heels. The mage’s face was white with exhaustion but as soon as he saw Hawke that changed. Cullen watched the healer kneel next to her with a scowl.

“What did you get her into this time, Knight Captain?” he growled as he inspected the wound, muttering as he worked. “At least he had the sense to not try and pull the damn dagger…” 

“What happened?” Leandra asked, slightly more calm now that Anders was there.

“A group of dwarves attacked us,” Cullen told her quietly. “They came specifically for Miriam, something about the blood of the Hawke.”

Anders looked up at Cullen, all irritation gone. “You suspect the same thing I do, don’t you?”

“Blood magic? Yes, except for the fact they were dwarves.”

“They could have been working for someone else,” Anders pointed out as Albrecht lead Brennen back into the room.

“I…er we didn’t find anyone, Ser,” she told Cullen as she eyed the mabari. “He’s uncanny,” she muttered, as the dog looked at her and gave what Cullen swore was a grin. Brennen shuddered as Cullen looked back up at her and said, “he’s a Mabari.”

Of course that wouldn’t explain anything to a Kirkwaller, but before Brennen could respond in any way, Aveline strode in with Varric on her heels.

Hawke propped herself up with a wince and smiled at the Guard Captain. “I’m sorry, Aveline, but I bled all over your nice clear streets.”

“Hawke, we’ve had this conversation. Blood works better when it stays on the _inside_ ,” Varric quipped, but Cullen could see the tension on the dwarf’s face. Cullen took a deep breath, and turned to Hawke’s mother.

“Mistress Leandra, I’m not asking you to betray any confidences in this, but did your husband have any dealing with either the Merchant’s Guild or the Carta before you left Kirkwall?” he asked gently as he could, but she tensed all the same.

“No, not to my knowledge,” she replied. “He never spoke of it, and I, foolishly perhaps, never asked.”

“Most of the Guild would sell their own mothers for a better piece of the lyrium market, so nobody’s going to risk pissing the Chantry off by helping an apostate escape, Curly,” Varric told him. “And it’s a dirty little secret that the Carta is pretty much Orzammar’s lifeline, which means pretty much the same thing.”

“So we’re back to the beginning, then,” Hawke sighed. “None of this makes sense. ‘Blood of the Hawke’?”

“Miriam, what about Bethany?” Leandra asked, fear evident in her voice. “Surely these dwarves wouldn’t attack Grey Wardens?”

Anders stood and nodded. “She’ll be fine, Mistress Amell. The Wardens protect their own,” he told Hawke’s mother, but Cullen heard him murmur, “at least from outsiders.”

The terrible bitterness in the mage’s voice made Cullen wonder if Anders had truly fled the Wardens, or if they’d driven him out.

Aveline looked about and snorted. “We’re simply chasing our tails at this point,” she said, and gestured to Brennen who’d been attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible. “I haven’t had a full report yet, but did your people take any prisoners?”

Brennen shook her head. “No ma’am. Not one surrendered when called upon. Fanatics is what they were.”

“Which definitely leaves the Carta out. They _bleed_ pragmatism,” Varric commented. “I’ll work my contacts anyway. If dwarves are involved, there’s a decent chance they’ve heard at least something.”

Aveline nodded, “We may have picked something up from the scene as well.” The Guard Captain looked at both Hawke and Leandra. “We’ll stop this,” she told them. “You have my word.”

“We know you will, Aveline,” Leandra said as Hawke tried to stand.

“Hawke, you shouldn’t…” Cullen and Anders said in unison, then looked at each other in horror, causing Hawke to laugh.

“Well, Mother, it seems you now have help taking care of me. Better late than never I suppose,” she smiled. Cullen glowered at her, trying to studiously ignoring Anders’ grimace at Miriam’s attempt at humor.

Leandra shook her head and said sternly, “Miriam, enough please.”

Hawke suddenly looked contrite, which was an expression Cullen had seen maybe twice since he’d known her. She bowed her head to Leandra and then said, “My apologies, Cullen, Anders. Thank you both.”

Anders just sighed. “You need rest, Hawke,” he said, turning a glare on everyone but Leandra, “Out!” The mage began herding them up, when Hawke said, “Cullen? A moment?”

A growl came from Anders, but Hawke stared him down. Finally, the healer relented, said his goodbyes to Leandra and chased the others out the door. Cullen watched them go, feeling at a loss. So many changes in so little time, it felt like a part of him was still caught back at the _Hanged Man_ just after the game.

Leandra turned to him, and took his hands, and with a smile full of warmth and gratitude she told him, “Thank you for my daughter’s life, Cullen.”

The gentle sincerity in her words hit him hard. Cullen had come to respect Leandra a great deal, and he cared for her as family, so in the face of that sincerity all he could do was bow his head in acknowledgement.

Leandra looked up into his eyes, and returned his nod, as if she knew what he was thinking. Letting go of his hands she then turned to Hawke. “Anders _is_ correct, Miriam, in that you need to rest.”

“Yes, Mother,” came Hawke’s resigned reply.

“Good,” Leandra replied in satisfaction. “Then I will bid you both goodnight.”

As soon as she left, Cullen gestured to the door. “I should return to the Gallows,” he said, “I’m unsure if I’ll have a chance to…” His voice stuttered to a halt as the pad of Hawke’s thumb traced his cheek.

“We’ll find a chance to talk soon,” she told him quietly, and as he looked into her eyes, his heart quickened. It was a mixture of tenderness, amusement and affection, and that _smile_ appeared as she pressed her mouth to his.

Miriam’s lips were soft as they worked over Cullen’s own, and her tongue curled gently into his mouth. Warmth filled him, the kind that sank deep into the soul and lingered for hours afterward. The sweetness of this kiss was so different than the intoxication of earlier, but it was just as perfect, just as real.

“ ** _Enchantment_**!”

Cullen and Hawke snapped apart with a yelp as Sandal clapped loudly.

“Enchantment!” he repeated, looking as if he would start bouncing up and down on his toes.

Cullen felt his fingers flex convulsively as he fought down the urge to murder the dwarf. He took a step forward, but stopped when he heard the boy’s father.

“So here you are, my boy. I _told_ you to stay in our quarters,” the older dwarf said, then looked sheepishly at Hawke, “my apologies, Messere, Knight Captain. I can’t turn my back for a second some days.” Bodahn gave the two of them a penetrating look. “Ahhh,” he said, “come my boy, I think we’ve bothered Messere Hawke and Knight Captain Cullen enough for the evening,”

“ _EnCHANTment!”_ Sandal told his father, giving Cullen a far too knowing look.

“Yes, I’m sure it is, my boy.” And with a twinkle in his eye, Bodahn ushered his son out of the library.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to think about the whirlwind that this evening had become. At the same time, he hoped Hawke might try to kiss him for a third time.

“That went well, until Sandal decided to put his two coppers in at least,” she told Cullen with a slightly wry smile. “I think I really should take that advice and get some rest.” But that smile turned soft, and the tenderness he’d seen earlier was in her eyes once more. “We truly do need to talk, though. The sooner the better, I’d think.”

“Y-yes, of course, my lady,” he replied, then blanched as the endearment slipped out once more.

“’My lady’”, she repeated as if tasting the words as she very carefully touched his cheek. “I think I like that. Goodnight, Cullen.”

He tried to think of something, anything, he could say as the world continued to spin out of control, but all he could do was nod, turn on his heel and march off, hoping to keep some small measure of his dignity (and sanity) intact.

* * *

_And you love me for it._

The words echoed in Cullen’s mind on the trip back to the Gallows. It had been a nothing. A teasing remark. Or it should have been. The words had hit him hard, thought the attack had kept him from considering _why_. His mind continued to race, a dog chasing its tail, in an attempt to understand what was happening.

Am _I in love with her?_ he asked himself as he lay in bed, trying to sort through the confused tangle of emotions. _Maker, do I even_ know _what the word means?_

He had little true experience with relationships. First there had been Iseult, whom he’d met during training. They’d both been sixteen, and new to the dance. Passionate words and kisses were exchanged, but Iseult wished to be romanced by Ser Cullen the Templar, not have a relationship with Cullen Rutherford. The whole affair had tapered off into miserable oblivion as she found another trainee more to her tastes.

After that, Cullen chose to focus solely on his training rather than distract himself with the trappings of romance. That decision lasted until he arrived at Kinloch Hold and met Solona Amell.

She had been a quiet studious young woman, orderly and focused, with bright blonde curls, golden skin, and those Amell blue eyes. Solona stole his breath at that first hello.

Nothing could happen of course, she was a mage, and he a Templar. It was a temptation with every few words they exchanged, every smile he saw cross her lips. Cullen took his oaths seriously however, and he refused to break them for selfish desires. So Cullen contented himself to worship her from afar.

He shook his head. _Maker, I was such a fool back then,_ he thought to himself.

Quiet and studious as Solona was, she did tend to speak her mind, so she came to him after her Harrowing, and told him how she felt. And Cullen, brave Templar that he was, ran.

 _No, fool is too pale a word for what I was. Idiot, perhaps?_ The thoughts were bitter as Cullen shifted in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Other even less flattering terms spun in his mind as he continued to try and find some kind of context or comparison. But there was none.

_I have never felt anything like this._

And the idea of losing Miriam Hawke because of a misstep, or because he was too damaged to be worthy of her, terrified him.

_Maker help me._

* * *

Cullen did what he could to concentrate on his duties, but it’d been hard between his own emotional turmoil and the continued threat to Hawke. A second attempt, seemingly by the same faction of dwarves, ran afoul of one of the gangs who prowled Kirkwall’s streets at night. It had been a bloody affair, with both sides taking massive casualties before they retreated.

For the third attempt, one of the dwarves managed to enter the estate. He’d slipped in through an upstairs window, but was unfortunate enough to be met by a snarling vengeful Mabari hound. Albrecht had knocked the dwarf down and he and Sandal, of all people, kept the intruder there until Guard could arrive. From what Aveline had said, the dwarf was almost frothing at the mouth when they dragged him out; he died two days later.

The creak of the door to his small office snapped Cullen out of his musings.  He looked up from the logistics report he was supposed to be reading to see Varric walk in.

“Hey Curly,” the dwarf said, “Been missing you at _The Hanged Man_ ; Meredith finally chain you to that desk?”

Cullen decided not to dignify that with a response, but asked instead, “How did you get in?”

“Thrask’s an old drinking buddy, so when I told him I needed to see you, he walked me in.”

 _That_ caught Cullen’s attention as he remembered the questions Thrask had asked him in the weeks following Karras’ death. _Did Thrask_ help _cover it up?_ He thought to himself as he remembered what Thrask said to him that day:

_You’re an interesting man, Knight Captain._

It was probable that Thrask helped Varric without asking any questions, but the older Templar had to be aware how much time _Cullen_ spent with Varric, Hawke and the others.

He shoved the speculation aside for the moment. “And you needed to see me because?”

“My contacts found them, Curly, or at least they think they have,” Varric said, “so we’re having a little get together at Hawke’s to figure out what to do next. I thought you might want to be there.”

“Of course I do!” Cullen said, then realize he was half out of his chair, his heart pounding with the nervous anticipation of ending this threat.

“Whoa, slow down, Curly. The meeting’s this evening.”

Cullen settled back down in his chair, and nodded in a desperate attempt not to look embarrassed. He felt Varric studying him for a moment, then the dwarf cleared his throat.

“Look, I’m not all that great at emotional shit, and I should probably stay out of this, but,” Varric took a deep breath and said, “Don’t screw this up, Cullen.”

 “What?” Cullen replied, utterly perplexed. What could he do to the current situation that could make things worse? In fact, what made Varric think he could influence the current situation at all?

_And he’s using my given name, Maker help me, this isn’t good._

“I mean you and Hawke.”

Cullen felt as if he took a blow to the chest. Fighting to breath he said, “There is no ‘me and Hawke’, Varric.” The dwarf couldn’t have known about the second kiss. Well, unless Sandal said something, which was a horrifying thought.

Varric snorted, “Right, Curly, sure. I may not be great with emotional shit, but I **_am_** something of a student of human nature, and I can tell you when a woman looks at a man the way Hawke looks at you, she’s got it bad. When she’s willing to wait for him to get a clue, she’s _really_ got it bad.”

“Hawke… We’re… she’s…” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck trying to think of things to say.

Varric shook his head with amusement. “Maker’s breath, Curly, why do you think she asked for _you_ when we got back from the Deep Roads? Because she couldn’t think of anyone else? Please!”

“She’s not… I mean, I’m not…we’re not…” Cullen growled in frustration as words continued to desert him.

“ _Why_ not? Is there some law, something in the Chant, maybe, that says Hawke can’t care for you? We both know you haven’t taken any vows that’d keep you from having feelings for her.”

The younger man flushed then shook his head, “There’s so much I haven’t told her.”

“Like that’s a surprise, Curly? We’ve all got secrets, things we don’t share even with those near and dear. But the question isn’t about _what_ you haven’t told Hawke. It’s if you _are_ going to tell her. Which brings me back to my original point: don’t screw this up.”

“Varric, you have to know I’d never hurt Hawke,” Cullen protested.

“Of course I know that, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” Varric replied. “I’m talking about the kind of screw ups that haunt you. The ones that have you wondering how much better your life might have been if you hadn’t fucked up so badly. You don’t want that kind of regret, Cullen, trust me.” The dwarf sighed then said, “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Of course.”

* * *

They had gathered in the library to discuss Varric’s information. Hawke seated herself on the couch, while Cullen leaned against the hearth. As the others settled in to their places, a voice interrupted them.

“I knew you had something to do with this.”

Hawke shoved herself up out of her seat and turned to the newcomer, “Bethany?”

The Warden said nothing to her sister as her eyes lit on Cullen, and he felt the distrust in her otherwise bland gaze. “And what have we here? Knight Captain Cullen, I knew you were friendly with my sister, but not _this_ friendly.”

“Bethany, that’s enough. Cullen’s a guest in our home…”

“Your home, sister, not mine.”

“ _Bethany!_ ” Leandra’s voice came like a whip crack as she entered the library behind her daughter. “The dwarves that attacked your sister would have killed her if not for the Knight Captain’s assistance.” Cullen flushed at Leandra’s praise while ignoring Anders muttered comments about _his_ assistance in keeping Hawke alive. “Cullen,” Leandra continued, eyes on her youngest., “has been very kind to me these last few years, and _I_ consider him a friend.”

Cullen watched Bethany’s hostility fade somewhat beneath her mother’s chastisement. The Grey Warden sighed, “I apologize, Mother, Knight Captain… Sister, but may I assume one of you at least _knows_ something about this?”

“You assume correct, Sunshine,” Varric told Bethany as he motioned her over to sit by him.  After she was settled the dwarf looked over at Leandra, “I’m going to ask you to pardon me, Mistress Amell, but what I’ve found out is really _weird_ shit.”

Cullen bristled at the language, but he heard a small laugh come from Hawke’s mother. “Varric, I’ve heard worse from Gamlen.”

Varric bowed to Leandra with a slight smile. “Madam,” he said in acknowledgement, but the smile was quick slipped into a more serious expression as the dwarf unrolled a map. “They’re here,” Varric told them, pointing to a spot deep within the Vimmark mountains. “And it looks like I might have been wrong about them not being Carta, but no one can give me a rational explanation for why a Carta clan would be all the way out in the middle of nowhere.”

Isabela eyed the map then said, “You’re right, Varric. Can’t see why any smuggler in his right mind would pick an inaccessible spot like this.”  She stopped and looked around. “What? I have _some_ experience moving goods discreetly… All right, I’m a smuggler, so I know you don’t set up shop in the ass end of nowhere if you want to be successful. New lyrium mine, maybe?”

“If it is, Rivaini, then they’re just burying themselves deeper with the Carta,” Varric replied.

“If the rest of the Carta thinks these people are an issue, why haven’t they dealt with them?” Cullen asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

“There’s a difference between ‘issue’ and ‘threat’, Curly,” the dwarf replied.

Hawke snorted, “And I suppose that the Carta hope we’ll deal with them before they have to.”

“Got it in one,” Varric told her.

 _I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise_ , Cullen said to himself as the conversation turned toward Hawke’s next step, _unless coin stops flowing, the Carta could care less what their people do._

The discussion moved on, and Cullen contributed what little he could, considering he would be staying behind, along with Aveline. Isabela seemed torn, but Cullen suspected that she might be more interested in the potential profit of raiding the Carta than actually helping Miriam.

In a few hours, the basics of the expedition (Cullen winced at the application of the word) were sorted out, and the meeting began to break up.

“Hawke? A moment if you please?”

Miriam nodded as both her mother and sister bade him goodnight. When they were gone, Cullen swallowed hard. He wasn’t exactly sure how to say what he wanted to say. In fact, he wasn’t exactly sure if he _should_ say what he wanted to say.

“Cullen?”

He looked into her eyes for a moment, and then very gently cupped her chin with his hands.

“Miriam Hawke. You _will_ come back,” he told her before he leaned in and kissed her.

Carefully, he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue and she opened for him with a sigh, and heat simmered beneath his skin as he pulled her close. The kiss lasted somewhere between a moment and an eternity, but when it finally broke Miriam gave him that special smile.

“You certainly know how to give a girl incentive, Cullen.”

“Whatever it takes to bring you back home,” he told her.

“And then we’ll talk?” she asked.

“And then we’ll talk,” he replied evenly as the fear of telling Hawke the truth about himself tried to choke him.

_Maker help me._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finally got this done, but again I ended up trimming out the Tranquility part of the chapter, which will show up in Chapter Twelve.


	12. Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen councils one of the young knights who was at Tanner's Farm, confronts Meredith about a new protocol for handling mages. And Hawke returns to Kirkwall with a terrible secret.

Early 9:34 Dragon

Cullen valiantly waged war against the mountain of paperwork on his desk. A week into the new year, and again Cullen desperately sought _any_ kind of distraction as he waited for Hawke’s return. Still, some distractions worked better than others, so when a knock on the door interrupted him, Cullen seized the opportunity with both hands.

“Come in,” he said as he stood. The door opened and Jessup Devereux entered. Of all the knights who had gone to Tanner’s Farm with him, Jessup seemed to be the most affected. The once brash young man had been replaced by a knight who tried to hide the fear that filled his eyes when around his charges.

It was a situation that was far too familiar to Cullen, and he wrestled with how to deal with the young man without striking a fatal blow to his self-confidence.

“Knight Captain?”

Cullen nodded to the younger man and gestured to a seat in front of the desk. “Ser Jessup, please.”

The knight took the offered seat as Cullen settled himself back in his own chair.

“Now, how can I help you?”

Jessup stared at his hands for a moment, and then looked up, though he didn’t look directly at Cullen. It was as if he was staring at a space just between them when he answered:

“I think I should transfer to Chantry service, Knight Captain.”

Cullen kept his face passive and steepled his fingers. It was difficult to keep his own voice neutral as he watched Jessup. The young man was perched on the edge of his chair, and Cullen could _feel_ the tension wafting off him. He also saw an all too familiar fear in Jessup’s eyes.

 “May I ask why?”

“It’s… it’s Tanner’s Farm, Ser,” the younger man told him. “I froze.”

“As did Hugh and Paxley,” Cullen pointed out quietly, “Templars have no Harrowing, no way to test ourselves against demons and abominations in a controlled manner. The Order offers its wisdom and experience as a guide, but in the moment all that matters is who you are.”

“Ser, I don’t…”

“Did the demon offer you something?” Cullen interrupted.

“Y-yes, Ser.”

“What did it want in return?”

“It said…” the young knight swallowed and tried again, “It said if I struck you down it would give me…” Jessup shook his head, refusing to say more, refusing to even look at Cullen.

“Yet instead of doing as it asked, you fought. Whether you realize it or not, a part of the battle that day went on _inside_ you, and you _won._ ”

“It doesn’t feel like winning,” Jessup said, sinking back into his chair, his eyes worn and looking older than they should.

“I know,” Cullen told him, “from horrifying personal experience, I know. What happened scarred you, as much as any physical wound.”

“You said you had experience, Knight Captain?” Jessup’s voice was quiet. “Does it ever really heal?”

“The truth?” Cullen replied. “I don’t know if it does. Some days are better, and some are worse.”

“How do you get through the worst?”

Remembering that moment at the Hawke estate when he told Miriam about Tanner’s farm he answered. “Friends. They might not always understand, but they do help.” Cullen waited for a moment the continued, “I will, of course, endorse your request to transfer to Chantry service, if that is your wish. However, I have faith in your ability to continue your service here at the Gallows.”

Jessup’s eyes widened, and Cullen found himself fighting not to smile at the younger knight’s expression. All of his students were well aware that the Knight Captain was not given to idle praise.

“Uhm… Thank you, Ser,” the knight replied, “I’ll think on what you’ve said.” He stopped for a moment then continued. “Of course, it may not be necessary, with the new protocol.”

Cullen eyed Jessup for a moment. “What protocol?”

“You hadn’t heard Knight Captain?” the young man said in surprise. “I would have thought…”

“I’ve heard nothing about a protocol of any sort,” Cullen told Jessup, his eyes hard.

“It’s… well…” Jessup actually began to fidget, “all mages who reached their majority would be made Tranquil.”

Cullen stood so abruptly that the younger knight took an involuntary step back. “Who told you this?” he snapped.

“Ser Warwick said Ser Alrik took it to the Knight Commander yesterday.”

 _Alrik,_ Cullen thought. The man had been a confederate of Ser Karras, and Cullen was filled with a sense of dread as he remembered Karras’ threat during their final encounter.

“You are not to discuss this with anyone else. Is that understood, Ser Jessup?”

The young knight nodded and stood. “Yes, Ser,” he replied at the obvious dismissal.

As soon as Jessup excused himself, Cullen headed for the Knight Commander’s office. As he strode down the corridors, both mage and Templar instinctively stepped aside for the Knight Captain. When he arrived at Meredith’s door, Cullen rapped a little harder than was his wont, and the Knight Commander responded in kind.

“What is it?” she snapped, forcing Cullen to reign in his own anger. No good would come from antagonizing Meredith, especially in this.

“Pardon, Knight Commander,” he said as calmly as he could. “Something has come to my attention I believe we need to discuss.”

After a tense moment a much calmer Meredith said, “Come in.”

Cullen entered, closing the door firmly behind him. She stood as he came to attention then gestured for him to stand easy.

“What is it, Knight Captain?”

Cullen attempted to take an unobtrusive breath then asked, “Has there been a change in the protocol for dealing with the mages, Ser?”

Meredith looked at him with unfriendly eyes, “No, there has not, Knight Captain. Have you heard differently?”

“Yes, I have, Ser,” He replied, choosing his words with care. “From what I’ve been told, the Order is now to make mages Tranquil as soon as they reach their majority.”

Meredith began to viciously curse under her breath. Cullen had never seen her come so close to losing composure. Her quiet rant ended on a hiss and she looked at Cullen with burning blue eyes.

“Knight Lieutenant Alrik brought such a proposal to me yesterday, but I refused to authorize it,” she said, “I also informed Alrik if he wished to present his case to the Divine, he was free to do so, but he was not to discuss it with anyone in the Gallows.” Meredith growled again. “I think the Knight Lieutenant will be more compliant after his lyrium rations have been cut to the bone.”

Cullen wondered at Meredith’s unintended irony as Karras’ ugly comments returned to him.

The Knight Commander must have seen something on his face, for she studied him a moment, then asked, “you understand why I refused to authorize Alrik’s plan?”

“It would back every mage in southern Thedas into a corner,” Cullen replied. “Parents who might otherwise send their children to the Circle for training would refuse knowing their ultimate fate. More apostates would be tempted to ally with demons as a defense against the Order…”

“…and the Circles themselves would rise up in revolt,” Meredith finished for him the shook her head, “I have Orsino in this office every other day, whining at me about my ‘draconian’ security measures, including my ‘abuse’ of the brand as punishment.” She shook her head. “No. If I were to institute Alrik’s suggestion, we would see maleficarum and abominations in the Gallows itself rather than lurking in the shadows.”

“And the Divine?”

“I doubt Most Holy would even consider such a thing,” Meredith replied. “Divine Justinia is reputed to be… progressive. But whatever Her Perfection decides, Alrik needs to be dealt with. A week at bare rations would do well enough I think, Knight Captain.”

“I’ll see to it, Ser,” Cullen told her as he came to attention and turned to leave.

“Cullen,” Meredith said, and he turned back to her with an inquiring look. “Make it clear that anyone who continues to discuss this subject will share in Alrik’s punishment.”

“Of course, Knight Commander.”

Cullen never really approved of using lyrium deprivation as a punishment. Templars required it to do their duty, and withdrawal symptoms would make even light duty difficult. But there were a number of knights who agreed with Alrik’s plan. Enough that Meredith decided a public examples needed to be made.

The offending Templars rations were cut for twelve days, during which they were expected to fulfill their regular duties, in addition to what was assigned as punishment. When Cullen asked if such a public display was wise, Meredith told him that it was an object lesson for both Alrik and his followers, and Orsino.

“It will be difficult for Orsino to complain that I am too lenient about the transgressions of Templars after this,” she had told him.

By the end, the offending Templars were barely functional. Many had pushed themselves past exhaustion for fear that the Knight Commander would do worse if they shirked their duty. The mages made no comment, but Cullen saw vicious satisfaction in the eyes of more than a few. He wanted to blame them for it, but what Karras had said fixed itself in his mind. It also caused him to wonder if that satisfaction was due simply to seeing Templars humiliated or if some among the offending knights had abused them. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a question he could ask for any number of reasons, even though he’d been trying to find evidence of just such things since Karras had been killed.

When the message came that Hawke had finally returned, and to meet her at the _Hanged Man_ , Cullen was quick to take the opportunity to get away from the Gallows.

“Cullen!” Miriam said as he entered Varric’s suite. She took his hands and guided him over to a seat. He looked about as they settled down, taking stock of who was there. Varric, of course, sitting in his throne-like chair was talking to Aveline. It seemed the latest chapter of one of Varric’s serials had cause a fight to break out in the Guard barracks.  Cullen read over the offending chapter himself and still wondered why anyone would _want_ to claim to be an inspiration for Varric’s storytelling.

Anders was the only other person in the suite, and he was staring down at his mug. The mage looked up for a moment and what Cullen saw frightened him. Anders looked haunted, his eyes bruised from lack of sleep, his face gaunt, and sick self-loathing filled the other man’s eyes. Anders must have realized Cullen had seen something for he turned back to his drinking without a word.

Hawke settled in next to him with a half-smile on her lips. “Maker, it’s good to see you, Cullen.”

“And you, Miriam, but the others… Bethany,” he asked tentatively.

“Everyone’s fine,” Hawke told him, “or as fine as they’re going to be after what happened. And as for Bethany, I thought she needed some time alone with Mother.”

“What did happen?” Cullen asked gently as he studied her face. She wasn’t beaten down like Anders, but there was what seemed like horror lingering in her eyes.

Hawke bit her lip, looking uncertain, and then said, “If this gets out, Cullen, I’m not sure what would happen, but it would be bad.”

“Miriam, you’re frightening me.” He took her hands into his own and squeezed gently. “What happened?”

Cullen watched her steel herself then she began to tell the tale, and as she did, Cullen understood her horror. When she finished, Cullen desperately tried to think of something to say.

“Not exactly the talk we were supposed to have when I came back, hmm?” she managed.

“No, not really,” he replied quietly. He squeezed her hands again, and she tried to smile. They sat together like that for a long time, and that was enough.


	13. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Cullen finally talk about the kiss and Cullen's time at the Circle of Ferelden.

9:34 Dragon

Cullen found he couldn’t sit still as he waited for Hawke in the library of her estate. It had been weeks since she’d returned from the Vimmark Mountains, but neither of them had been able to find time to have that promised conversation. But now that the moment of truth had finally come, Cullen was terrified. And not just about saying the _wrong_ thing.

He wasn’t sure if he had the words to explain what happened to him at Kinloch Hold, and he certainly wasn’t sure he wanted to explain how it had… damaged him.

_She deserves better than this,_ he thought to himself as Hawke entered the room. Suddenly the room seemed brighter and his spirits lifted a little as he saw that _smile._ The one she saved for him alone.

Cullen generally avoided thinking about how simply being in the same room with Miriam made him feel better, but that’s what they were here to talk about, he supposed.

She held out a hand to him, but he felt disappointed, and a little concerned, as he took it. Had he done something wrong?

“It’s good to see you, Cullen,” Miriam said, “I know how busy things are, but I’m glad we’re finally getting this chance.” She squeezed his hand gently then let go.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you as well, Hawke,” he replied more formally than he probably should have. But he felt confused at her greeting considering the last few times they’d see each other.

She blinked at his tone and said, “Maybe I deserve that. I know I shouldn’t have ambushed you at the card game, but I thought…”

Cullen’s heart skipped a beat for a second. She was _apologizing_ for what happened at the game. Well, not for what happened, but for how she went about it?

“Hawke, I’m not angry at you,” he told her gently, “I’m just confused, since well… all you offered to do was shake my hand when you came in.”

It sounded so foolish when he said it aloud but the relief on her face was almost comical.

“Oh! No, I still… drat, this would have gone much better without those blasted dwarves,” she groused. “I’d intended to apologize to you that night, but with the attack… What I’m trying to say is that I’ve wanted to kiss you for some time, and I would like to see if we could be more than just friends, but I’d been worried if I just came out and told you that you’d run.” She flushed slightly then said, “and we both know I’m not very good at being subtle.”

“I…” Cullen stuttered for a moment, trying to find the right words. “While I might have wished for more privacy, Miriam, I think maybe that was probably the right way to go about it.” He knew he was tacitly admitting that she was right, that he might have just run, though not for the reasons she thought. Even now a small part of him _wanted_ to run, but it was time to confront this. Time to stop keeping secrets; time to stop being afraid.

“There are things you should know about me, Miriam,” he told her quietly, struggling against his fears. “I’ve never spoken about it to anyone. Not in full, but it’s time.”

“You know I’ll listen to whatever you have to tell me, Cullen,” Hawke replied in an equally quiet voice. “I’m here for you, whatever comes.”

“All right.” Cullen took a breath before he began. “This might be a little difficult for you as well, since I need to start at the beginning. With the mages at Ostagar, and with Loghain Mac Tir.”

Cullen heard Miriam try to strangle a growl, and there was an ugly light in her eyes at the mention of the late Teyrn. Miriam Hawke generally didn’t hate. She disliked people, even loathed them, but pure burning hatred was not part of her nature. Except for Loghain Mac Tir. Hawke blamed Loghain for the defeat at Ostagar, the death of King Cailan, and what happened to Lothering and her family.

There was only one person Miriam Hawke blamed more for the loss of her home, the death of her brother, and all the misfortune that came later: herself.

Out of instinct, Cullen reached for her hand, holding it gently, as he looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, “No, don’t be. I know you wouldn’t mention any of this if you didn’t feel it was important.”

Cullen nodded, and cleared his throat, trying to find how to begin.

“You know the Circle sent mages as part of the King’s army, along with a contingent of Templars. Most survived to return to Kinloch Hold, and when they arrived one of the Senior Enchanters who’d been at Ostagar called a meeting, one with no Templars present.”

“Was that common?” Hawke asked curiously.

“Knight Commander Greagoir was much more lenient than Meredith,” Cullen told her, “much of it was due to the fact he had developed a partnership with the First Enchanter, and despite any underlying friction, they worked well, and Greagoir trusted Irving, so when Uldred called the meeting, Greagoir trusted to the First Enchanter. Would that he hadn’t.”

“You mentioned Uldred before, in an argument with Anders.”

Cullen nodded again. “Uldred called the mages together to plea for them to join Teyrn Loghain’s rebellion in exchange for their freedom from the Templars.”

Hawke’s eyes widened and that ugly light was back, but Cullen held up a hand. “I don’t know if the Teyrn actually made the offer or if Uldred thought that by offering aid, Loghain would repay them,” he said, “but First Enchanter Irving refused to consider the idea, and that was when Uldred and those who followed him revealed themselves as maleficarum.”

Cullen felt Hawke squeeze his hand, and as he looked into her eyes he saw the warmth and softness she reserved for him.  It wouldn’t make the tale any easier to tell, but he knew she would listen and she wouldn’t judge.

“The Circle fell, I watched my fellow Templars, my friends be slaughtered. I was captured and tortured. They tried to break me… And maybe they did.”

Miriam shook her head. “I find that hard to believe, Cullen. You’re one of the strongest men I know.”

“I’d like to believe that,” he said, trying to fight through the fear… and the shame. “They started with pain, then pleasure, then both until I couldn’t tell which was which. It all became pleasure, until the demons took it away. They left me empty and numb and with the promise that if I surrendered I could have it all back.”

“I had no food, no water, no lyrium and no resources, but I still fought,” he continued then stopped realizing the faint note of _pride_ in his voice.  He’d never considered what he’d done anything to be proud of. It had been simple survival, but as he looked into Miriam’s eyes, and saw her faith in him, what he had accomplished hit home. “Solona arrived at some point; it was difficult to keep track of the days, but when she did, I was so angry. I’d been infatuated with her once, and at first I thought she was one more temptation held just out of reach. A different kind of pain. But when I realized she was real, the things I said…”

He watched Miriam’s face, waiting for the inevitable disgust to set in, but the only change in her expression was when he admitted his infatuation for her cousin. It had been a flicker of curiosity maybe? But she said nothing, waiting with surprising patience for him to finish.

“The worst is I’ve never been sure if I was angry because she arrived so late, or because she arrived so soon.”

Hawke cocked her head to one side looking at him with concern, “What do you mean?”

“I was close to breaking when Solona arrived, Miriam, and a part of me still wants to…”

“Surrender?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yes, a part of me wants what they offered almost to the point of need,” he replied, “I’ve had nightmares about it for years.”

“Cullen,” she said with fond amusement, “if you were broken as you think, you’d be wallowing in whips and chains at the Blooming Rose.”

He began to splutter, not knowing what to say. He’d never even heard of such things, for while gossip in the barracks might be… colorful at times, no one had ever mentioned such things in his hearing.

“What were you doing at the Blooming Rose?” he blurted out, even as he felt his skin go dark.

“I wasn’t sampling the wares, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hawke said tartly. “I was there to drag either Isabela or Gamlen home.”

“How does Gamlen even afford it?” Cullen asked, still off balance and wondering how he’d gotten there. Hawke was supposed to be disgusted, not amused. She was supposed to turn away, not accept.

“I have no idea,” Miriam admitted, “but he was a regular patron while we lived in Low Town, but this neither here nor there, Cullen.”

“You’re right, Miriam, but you deserve to know what I am,” he told her, “you need to know.”

She didn’t answer him; at least not in words. Instead, she lifted both his hands to her lips and brushed kisses over the knuckles, her blue eyes locked on his brown. Then she held them palm up, kissing the heel of each this time, and finally lay them flat, another kiss placed gently on each wrist.

Cullen felt his heart beat furiously. Hawke had done nothing overt, yet it was such an intimate thing.

“You’re not broken, Cullen,” she told him, still holding his hands, her thumbs circling the pulse points in his wrists. “You have scars, but we all do. You’ve seen some of mine firsthand.”

“Miriam, I…”

She shook her head and continued, “You mean so much to me, and I’m hoping we can see if there’s a future for us, together.”

There is was, and Cullen realized she’d put her heart in his hands. She believed in him, cared for him, _trusted_ him in ways he wasn’t sure he deserved. It was a choice that wasn’t a choice. There was only one thing he could say and still be Cullen Rutherford.

“I’d like that as well, Miriam,” he said finally.

He watched Hawke let out the breath she’d been holding. “Oh! Good!” she gave him that smile, and he knew he’d made the right decision. Then her face became more serious. “We’ll take this as slow as you need, Cullen. This is for both of us.”

“And those… issues?”

Miriam looked at him for a moment, then said, “Whatever you need, Cullen. Whatever you need, I promise.”

Cullen looked down at their joined hands, and then followed Miriam’s example. Gentle kisses laid on knuckles, palms, and wrists. An intimate gesture that said so much more than words. He didn’t deserve what she was offering, but he’d so everything he could to be worthy of it and her.

And maybe that was the point.

“Thank you, Miriam,” he told her, his voice barely above a whisper,” for everything.”

 

 


	14. All That Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the death of Leandra Amell, Cullen finds himself having a surprising revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with the aftermath of the questline "All that Remains" which means the funeral of Leandra Amell.

Late 9:34 Dragon

Cullen’s nightmares had changed in the past few days. There was a new face among the dead of Kinloch Hold. A Templar who had been far from Ferelden Circle when it fell to demons and blood mages: Ser Emeric.

The background would fade, but the body would not. A broken corpse in a Kirkwall alleyway with Hawke standing above it, eyes bright with tears. She would try to speak, but Cullen couldn’t hear her. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t read them. All he could see was the broken body of one of his brothers, taken by the blood mage Emeric and Hawke had tried to hunt.

A loud banging on his door startled Cullen out of the nightmare. He pulled a shirt and breeches on then opened the door ready to demand answers.

“What is it?” he snarled even as he tried to shake away the nightmare.

“My apologies, Knight Captain,” Ser Moira said, looking everywhere but him, “but the Knight Commander requires your presence immediately.”

_What in the Maker’s name has happened now?_ He thought to himself as he realized the halls were buzzing with activity. Meredith wouldn’t call so many just on a whim.

“Please tell the Knight Commander, I will be there shortly, Ser Moira,” he said more calmly.

She gave him a jerky nod, “Of course, Knight Captain.”

* * *

 

Cullen’s nerves were strung tight by the time he reached Meredith’s office. This much activity this late in the evening was never a good sign. He knocked politely on the office door.

“Enter.” Meredith’s voice was harsher than usual, but what truly surprised Cullen was Sebastian Vael’s presence in the office. 

“Knight Commander,” he said as he noticed that his friend was dressed in the simple robes of a Chantry brother rather than his usual armor. “Brother Sebastian.”

“Leandra Amell is dead, Knight Captain,” the Knight Commander said without any preamble.

Cullen’s heart stopped. Leandra couldn’t be dead. It was unthinkable. He tried to say something, to object, to ask how, but nothing came.

_Maker, please let this be another nightmare. Please let this be something I wake up from._

“Knight Commander, if I may?” Sebastian requested solemnly. When the Knight Commander gave a jerky nod he continued. “Mistress Amell was taken by the same blood mage who killed Ser Emeric.”

“She was targeted to get at Hawke?” Cullen asked incredulously.

“No,” Sebastian shook his head, “the women this Quentin took all bore some resemblance to his late wife…”

Cullen felt himself pale as Sebastian told the tale of how the mage was trying to recreate his dead wife from the pieces of the women he’d murdered.

“Hawke?” he managed to choke out, fighting back the sickness and pain he felt. Leandra had been special to him, and not simply because she was Hawke’s mother. Hundreds of memories crowded into his mind of all the times he’d spent with her.

“Varric and Aveline are with her at the estate,” Sebastian answered as Cullen saw everything he was feeling mirrored in his friend’s eyes. “I promised her I would see to Leandra myself, so I must return to the Chantry.”

Before Cullen could say anything, Meredith spoke, “Brother Sebastian, would you be so kind as to inform the Grand Cleric and Mistress Hawke that I will be sending Knight Captain Cullen to represent the Order at Mistress Amell’s pyre.”

If Sebastian was surprised at Meredith’s peace offering it did not show. “Of course, Knight Commander, I shall do so immediately.” He bowed his head slightly to both Meredith and Cullen, then left the office.  

“I’m sending two squadrons under Trask to this Quentin’s laboratory,” Meredith told Cullen once Sebastian was gone, “I allowed myself to be lulled into complacency where this creature was concerned, but if he does have confederates, we will root them out.”

Cullen nodded in all the appropriate places, but he still didn’t understand why the Knight Commander had been so reticent to deal with the issue in the first place, especially with evidence of blood magic.

_Most of the victims weren’t mages, Cullen,_ he said to himself, _it isn’t as if Kirkwall is the safest place in Thedas. We had bones, a unknown figure and a set of demons._

_That should have been more than enough!_ Another part of him argued. _We should have supported Emeric, but it was politically inconvenient._

It was that thought that brought Cullen back to the present, and he found Meredith looking at him.

“I have history with the Amells, you know,” she said quietly, and Cullen nodded. All of Kirkwall knew the story of how the Knight Commander had supported the Dumar family over the Amells for the Viscount’s crown. Was that why she’d chosen to ignore the murders even after being presented with evidence? Because Hawke had been involved?

It wasn’t the kind of question you could put to the Knight Commander of Kirkwall, even in these circumstances.

“I’m aware,” he replied carefully.

“I find myself in a strange position, Cullen,” Meredith told him quietly. “I owe a debt to Mistress Hawke for what she has done. What I refused to do.” She shook her head and gave him a strange, almost confused, look, “I truly believed that this Quentin to be a problem for the Guard... Have there been other Quentins I’ve refused to see?”

“I have no answer for you, Knight Commander,” Cullen said carefully after a moment, “all we can do is continue our work, be vigilant, and pray to the Maker that is enough.”

“Perhaps…” Meredith whispered, then her voice grew stronger. “I owe Mistress Hawke a debt,” she repeated, “both as Knight Commander and as Meredith Stannard. I doubt however that she would welcome me with open arms at this moment. I certainly would not in her place.” She looked at Cullen. “Do whatever you must, Knight Captain, to see to Mistress Hawke. Take whatever time you need.”

“Thank you, Knight Commander, I’ll leave immediately.”

“Maker go with you, Knight Captain, and may He be with Mistress Hawke tonight.”

* * *

 

Cullen entered the library at Hawke’s estate to find her waiting for him. Her eyes were bruised and she didn’t even try to put on a brave face as he walked over to where she stood by the fire. He slipped his arms about her waist, holding her tightly as she rested her head on his shoulder. Neither of them tried to speak, for there was nothing that could really be said. Any apologies he made on behalf of the Order would be hollow, and for himself… For himself there were no words to express how helpless he felt. Hawke didn’t need the burdens of his feelings in any case.

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell Bethany, Cullen,” she whispered to him.

“One thing at a time, Miriam,” he replied just as softly as he stroked her hair.

“But…”

He shook his head. “We get through tonight first.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“I’ll help you,” he told her, “I’m here for as long as you need me.”

She gave a watery chuckle, something that had a flicker of her usual humor, “That might be a long time indeed.”

“For however long you need,” he repeated, “I couldn’t do any less.”

“Thank you, Cullen,” she said, drying her eyes on a handkerchief. “I should go prepare. Dawn is in a few hours.”

* * *

 

A hour before dawn, Kirkwall Chantry’s courtyard was surprisingly full. Cullen looked about from his place at Hawke’s side and saw off duty Guardsmen, members of the nobility, and commons alike. Leandra had touched so many lives.

Hawke’s hand found his, and he squeezed gently as Grand Cleric Elthina stepped up and began to pray:

_“Though all before me is shadow,_

_Yet shall the Maker be my guide._

_I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond._

_For there is no darkness in the Maker’s Light_

_And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.”_

Hawke’s hand tightened around his own as the Grand Cleric began the eulogy. Elthina spoke of Leandra’s early life, her love of her family, and her gentle spirit. No direct mention was made of Malcolm Hawke or her flight from Kirkwall. In many ways it was as if those years in Ferelden never took place.

_It’s a sad commentary that such an important part of Leandra’s life is being ignored for the sake of Kirkwall’s peace,_ Cullen thought as he felt Hawke stiffen at the omission. He held tight to her hand, focusing on simply being there even as his thoughts continued on their very Un-Templar train. _Void take politics… Leandra deserves better than this, as does Malcolm._

There was the crux of the matter: Malcolm Hawke was a mage, an apostate, but he was also a husband and father. He was a person who deserved to be remembered.

Cullen glanced out of the corner of his eye at Hawke as her own gaze was fixed on the unlit pyre. It was a strange time to realize how far he’d come in healing the wounds of Kinloch Hold. Farther than he’d ever thought possible, and it was because of the woman who stood next to him.

Sebastian approached; carrying the flame that would light Leandra’s pyre. Hawke took the torch from her friend and stepped forward.  Cullen watched the tears flow down her face and felt a certain resentment on her behalf. Yes, people had come to honor Leandra, but he hated that Miriam’s grief was on public display.

After a moment, the pyre roared to life as the sun began to crest the horizon. Then Sebastian’s voice rose in song:

_Shadows fall and hope has fled_  
Steel your heart, the dawn will come  
The night is long and the path is dark  
Look to the sky for one day soon  
The dawn will come…

It was one of the oldest pieces of sacred music in the Chantry canon, it origins lost in antiquity. Still, as Cullen joined his voice to the choir he felt something else he thought he’d lost: Faith. A faith untainted by horror and politics and the travails of the world. He reached for Miriam’s hand once more, and her fingers curled about his, Cullen felt a sense of rightness. He gave another gentle squeeze and turned his head to look at her.

Despite the tears, she stood straight backed and proud, the daughter of Leandra and Malcolm. Her face was pale, and her sapphire eyes dark with sorrow, but still she was the most beautiful woman Cullen had ever known.

Hawke returned his look with a questioning one of her own, her lips mouthing the words of the song, and Cullen fought not to smile. Over the years she’d joked she was a terrible Andrastian since the only way she could ever carry a tune was in a bucket. She was wrong, of course. In his eyes, Miriam Hawke embodied the best virtues of the Chantry: compassion, integrity, charity.

_Thank you, Leandra. Thank you, Malcolm. You’ve given me a greater gift than I deserve, but I’ll try to be worthy of her. Maker bless and keep you both._

* * *

 

It was mid-morning by the time the Hawke estate emptied, and Cullen sat with Miriam in the study.

“You should sleep,” he said gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes. She gave him a tired glare and he shook his head. “I know it’s the last thing you want to do, Hawke. Believe me, I understand, but you need to take care of yourself now.”

“All right, but first… I held something back from the Templars, Cullen,” she said as she held out a piece of parchment. “I found this in Quentin’s laboratory.”

_My dear friend,_

_I have obtained the books you requested. I'll leave them at our usual hiding spot. Please collect them as soon as possible. I would hate to see them in the wrong hands!_

_Your last letter was fascinating! You have proven me wrong, once again, by doing the impossible. I shouldn't have doubted your resolve, and I hope you will keep me apprised of further progress._

_Your friend and colleague,_

_O_

“This can’t be…” Cullen said, horrified. “Meredith will kill him.”

“And if it is the First Enchanter I would happily feed him to her myself, but I’m not sure and there’s no other evidence,” Hawke told him. “I don’t want to be wrong about this, Cullen.”

Cullen sat back and tried to think of all the repercussions.  “This is the only thing you took?” he asked and she nodded.

“And I’ve told no one else. Not even Varric.”

Cullen thought about that for a moment then said, “Varric has contacts in the Gallows even I haven’t been able to identify, so if we are going to attempt this madness, it may be wise to bring him in.”

Hawke nodded, “I thought so myself but I wanted to confer with you before we went anywhere.”

“This is madness,” he repeated, “the Circle shouldn’t be like this. Kirkwall shouldn’t be like this.” He shook his head, wishing for the certainty he’d felt earlier. He set the parchment aside and took Hawke’s hand.

“I swear to you we’ll find this ‘O’, Miriam, whomever he is, and you _will_ have justice,” he said as he squeezed her hand. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Cullen,” she replied quietly, “thank you.”


	15. The Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finds himself in charge of the defense of the Gallows as the Qunari lay siege to Kirkwall.

Late 9:34 Dragon

“Knight Captain!”

Cullen turned to look at the frantic Guardsman who’d just come through the gates of the Gallows. The young man’s voice was strident with fear, and his eyes were too wide.

“Report,” Cullen snapped, hoping to break him out of whatever it was that had him so afraid.

The Guardsman, who was little more than a boy really, straightened and then said, “Guardsman Donnic sent me, ser. The Qunari are laying siege to the city, and the Guard Captain is missing.”

“Did Guardsman Donnic tell you where she was last?” Cullen asked as others gathered to listen to the news.

“She and Mistress Hawke were headed to the Qunari compound, ser,”

Panic reached out to paralyze Cullen, but he shoved his personal feelings aside. Right now, he needed to be Knight Captain Cullen Rutherford, not a worried lover.

“Set Thrask,” He said as the older man hastened to his side, “I want double watches on the walls, and all the ferries docked to be moved to the far side of the island.”

“Of course, Knight Captain,” Thrask nodded then moved briskly back into the Gallows itself. Within moments, a second watch took position on the walls and as the last of the ferries were moved Cullen ordered the gates closed.

“Report, Knight Captain,” Meredith said as she reached his side.

“Qunari are attempting to take the city. I’ve ordered the gates closed, double watches, and all ferries to be moved to the far side of the Gallows. It should buy us some time since the Qunari will need to find a way to cross the channel.”

“Good,” she replied as she motioned for him to follow her up the wall. “I need a spyglass,” she called out, and one of the Templars on watch passed his glass to her. As she looked through she cursed. “They’re using that Maker cursed explosive powder of theirs!”

Cullen looked out over the channel and even without a glass he could see the plumes of smoke rising from Lowtown.

“I told the Viscount…” Cullen heard Meredith mutter under her breath, along with several curses on Dumar’s head, but he knew it wasn’t just the Qunari who’d brought this to a head. The death of Saemus Dumar at the hands of Andrastian fanatics only a few days before had nearly sent the city to war. The boy had converted to the Qun and his new found… benefactors had taken his assassination with poor grace. Cullen had thought it fortunate at the time that they had settled for the death of the Chantry mother who had been behind the plot.

Meredith closed the glass and handed it back to its owner. She walked the battlements, checking the defenses personally before descending back to the courtyard floor. Cullen followed dutifully behind as plans formed in his mind. He wasn’t certain he’d be able to convince the Knight Commander to allow the mages to take part in the defense, but what he’d learned from Hawke, the Qunari feared magic as much as anyone. He also knew the fate of any mage who would fall into their hands. Despite his own still ambiguous feelings towards magic and mages, he would never allow such horrors to befall his charges.

“Knight Commander!” Ser Kieran yelled as he ran into the courtyard, “the First Enchanter is missing!”

“What?” Meredith shouted, and Cullen saw something flicker through her eyes just as Thrask jogged up behind.

“He was seen leading several mages to the old smuggler tunnels,” the older knight told his superior.

“So Orsino wishes to play the hero,” Meredith grated then turned to Cullen, “The defense is yours Knight Captain, I will enter the city with a squadron of knights within the quarter hour. See to it!” Before Cullen could object she strode away.

“They picked a fine time to play politics,” Thrask said, his voice too calm, but Cullen could see the anger in his eyes.

“All we can do is our duty, Set Thrask, and hope both parties remember theirs,” Cullen told him. “I need you to find the remaining senior enchanters, and I want the apprentices and Tranquil ready in small groups with at two knights you can trust. Youngest first. I want them prepared to be evacuated through the tunnels and out of the city. They’re to strike for Starkhaven or up the coast to Ostwick.”

“The Knight Commander might take exception to those orders, Cullen,” Thrask replied, deliberately using Cullen’s given name for the first time.

“Then she shouldn’t have left me in charge,” he said to Thrask, “I cannot allow them to fall into Qunari hands, and you know why as well as I do.”

“I do indeed, but what about the senior enchanters?”

“I intend for them to aid in the defense. Now go, Ser Thrask, we’re running out of time.”

Within minutes Thrask returned with Senior Enchanter Attis at his heels.

“Greetings, Senior Enchanter,” Cullen said formally, “I assume you’re aware of the situation.”

Attis gave a sharp nod, “The Qunari are attempting to take the city.”

“Yes, and we are both aware what will happen if any of the mages here fall into their hands,” Cullen told the older man. “I won’t allow that to happen.” He gestured to Ser Thrask. “I’ve already made arrangements to evacuate the apprentices and the Tranquil.”

Attis raised an eyebrow, “And the other enchanters?”

“We’ll try and save as many mages as possible, but I am hoping an evacuation won’t be necessary, if you and the other enchanters are willing to help us defend the Circle.”

“You’re willing to trust _us_ , Knight Captain?

“We’re all standing in the same fire, Senior Enchanter, and our best chance for survival is to work together.”

The mage studied him for a long moment before nodding and motioning to one of the Tranquil. “Davvi, please bring me Senior Enchanters Lyra and Kel.”

The younger man bowed and headed into the keep as Attis turned back to Cullen. “Kel is one of our best healers, and Lyra has a pronounced… talent for fire magic.”

Cullen smiled slightly, as he’d heard the stories of a much younger Apprentice Lyra.

The pair of mages arrived quickly and looked at Attis.

“We aren’t being locked in our cells?” Lyra asked acerbically.

“No,” Cullen replied, “I intend that every mage who can help defend this Circle to do so.”

Kel looked at Lyra and then Attis. “And those of us who have little talent at such magic?’

“Senior Enchanter Attis tells me you are one of our best healers, so I ask that you organize your fellows and prepare to receive the wounded.”

“Do as the Knight Captain says,” Attis told his fellows. “His plan is our best hope of surviving this, or need I remind you what the Qunari do to our kind?”

Both mages shook their heads, then looked back at Cullen awaiting his orders.

“Senior Enchanter Kel, if you’d be so kind as to set up a healers’ station in the back of the courtyard, closest to the doorway to the keep?”

The man nodded and left, then Cullen looked at Lyra. “I intend to pair each mage with a Templar on the wall,” he said, “and I realize that there have been… issues in the past between many of the Templars here and your people, Senior Enchanter, but tonight we must look past them for all our sakes.”

Lyra looked as if she were about to object then took a breath and nodded. “You’re right, of course, Knight Captain. I’ll organize as many mages as I can, but there will be some who would rather die than aid a Templar.”

“Then remind them what should happen if they fall into Qunari hands, Enchanter,” Cullen said in a voice leeched of emotion. “there are fates worse than death.”

“Is that a threat?”

Cullen realized what he could be implying. “No, it is a poor choice of words, but I’ve had a friend describe to me what was done to a Qunari mage… I would not wish that horror on anyone.”

Lyra relaxed a little and the said, “I’ll do what I can.”

“That all I can ask, Senior Enchanter, and you have my thanks.”

* * *

 

There were five pairs of mages and Templars on either side of the main gate. Most of the Templars were younger members of the Order, or ones Thrask suggested. The rest were scattered along the battlements, watching for sappers or other forms of attack. Cullen himself stood on the right side of the gate, Senior Enchanter Attis standing at his left.

“Our guests seemed to have finally acquired transportation,” Attis noted as he eyes those ferries that had not been able to make it to the Gallows docks in time.

“I hope they enjoy the welcome we’ve prepared for them,” Cullen replied and then raised his voice, “mages, you have authorization to engage the enemy! Archers at the ready!”

Attis continued to watch as the enemy formed ranks and began to advance, and Cullen heard him murmuring in a sing song voice. It took a moment for him to realize that the mage was counting downward.

“Now!” Attis hissed, and Cullen nodded as the mage lit the sky with green flashes.

Ice, fire, lightning and arrows rained down on the Qunari host, and the first of the wounded fell out of formation.

“Do you see those?” Cullen said, pointing to the back of the host.

“Maker’s breath,” Attis muttered, “are those their mages?

“Yes,” Cullen answered, “They’ll bring them forward now, but I doubt the Qunari truly have an idea what a Templar can do.”

Another flare went up as the Qunari mages and their handlers came forward. The Circle mages took cover behind the parapets, as the Templars prepared for the attack.

The return volley flared into nothingness as it struck the lyrium enhanced will of the Templars. The surprise among the Qunari gave the Circle mages an opening as they savaged the Qunari handlers. This threw the enemy’s mages into confusion. The Qunari pulled back, gathering their wounded as they did so.

“Did we just win?” Attis asked.

“No,” Cullen replied. “This was just the first sortie. They’ve learned a little something about us and will be back as soon as they’ve made sense of what they learned.”

“But we’ve learned something as well, haven’t we?”

“Yes, we have, Senior Enchanter,” Cullen said, “we should get fresh people up here and check on the wounded.”

“Agreed, Knight Captain, agreed”

* * *

 

The Qunari sortied three more times that night, and each time they were repulsed by Cullen’s defenders. But the cost was high. Over a dozen dead, mostly from the heavy javelins the Qunari used, and there were twice as many wounded.

Cullen had stayed upon the wall most of the night, leaving only to check on the wounded and to ensure people had food and a least a little rest between attacks. But now, as he watched another ferry cross the channel he worried that this would be the attack that broke them. Instead of a fresh host, only a single Qunari disembarked and within a space of moments the host began to retreat toward the docks.

Lyra had taken Attis’ place at Cullen’s side and asked, “What do you make of that, Knight Captain?”

“I have no idea, but something has changed drastically,” he said, “we’ll keep this watch on the wall until we’re certain there’s no more threat.”

“If I might make a suggestion?” Lyra asked.

“Of course, Senior Enchanter,” he replied.

“Send someone through the tunnels,” she told him, “we need to know what’s going on in the city, and this may be our best opportunity.”

 Cullen nodded. “Agreed, I’ll send two knights through, and hopefully they’ll be able to gather useful intelligence.” He gave Lyra a look before she could object. “I cannot justify sending a mage along, Senior Enchanter. Until we know otherwise, Kirkwall is in enemy hands, and my duty is to protect you and your people.”

The Senior Enchanter looked at him as if he were speaking another language then said, “you mean that, don’t you?”

Before Cullen could say any more, another party came forward, and at its head were Knight Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino. Several of the knights were wounded, and there were no other mages to be seen as they passed through the gates.

“Sweet Maker,” Lyra said in a pained voice as the loss hit her.

“I’m sorry, Lyra,” he said, purposefully using only her given name. She was one of his charges, but she was also a person who’d just lost friends and colleagues, many of whom she’d known for years.

The older woman looked at him sharply, and he knew she had to be wondering at his sincerity. He simply returned her look without words and finally she nodded.

“We should see what news the First Enchanter and Knight Commander bring,” she said.

“Of course, Senior Enchanter, after you,” he gestured and they made their way down from the battlements.

* * *

 

Cullen followed one of the Tranquil, Maddox, to Meredith’s office. The presence of the Tranquil was something Cullen never quite adjusted to. Those sing song voices and lack of emotion were… uncomfortable. But Maddox… Cullen had tried to save Maddox from his fate. He’d argued with Meredith that a few love letters were not worth the Rite. Meredith had disagreed, and forced Cullen to watch as the young man was branded.

The Knight Commander had never said another word about it, but her message was clear. Especially when she dismissed Ser Samson for aiding Maddox. It was another incident that convinced him that Sebastian, and (Maker help him) Anders were right about how dangerous Meredith was. So, he kept track, looking for patterns that would prove Meredith’s instability.

Cullen shook himself, these weren’t thought he should be having in the face of what had happened, but seeing Maddox always brought back the old memories.

The Tranquil knocked on the office door and said, “Knight Captain Cullen is here, Knight Commander.”

“Send him in, Maddox.”

The young man opened the door for Cullen, who murmured his thanks and stepped through. As the door closed, he looked around to find the other senior officers waiting.

“Knight Captain, good…” Meredith began then turned to address the crowd, “The Qunari leader is dead, and the rest of their forces are pulling back from Kirkwall.”

“Of course, the ox-men were no match for Templars,” Ser Alrik said.

“I didn’t say a Templar killed him,” Meredith replied. “In fact, he died in a duel with Miriam Hawke, the new Champion of Kirkwall.”

Cullen felt his chest tighten as Meredith continued. Hawke had nearly got herself killed defending Isabela? And this relic… The whole of the story made his head spin, and it angered him.

_I need to speak with Hawke about her priorities… Soon._


End file.
